


Broken Mirrors

by Rinienne



Category: Avengers (Comics), Captain America (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Sam Wilson/Jet Zola, Minor Sharon Carter/Cameron Klein, Past Bucky Barnes/Gretchen Zeller, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Past Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers, Period Typical Homophobia, Secret Empire Fix-it, Stucky AU Big Bang, Temporary Hydra!Steve, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-29 04:38:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17801195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinienne/pseuds/Rinienne
Summary: “Say. It,” Steve insisted more urgently. His voice was harsh, demanding, but Bucky noticed a note of fear in it too, as if the other man was genuinely afraid Bucky would refuse him.Next to him, Zemo crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of impatience and rolled his eyes. He looked smug beside Steve, standing there as if he belonged. Bucky wanted to erase that smug expression on his face, because it annoyed him so much that he suddenly forgot about his pain, about the chains that held him tight and found the will to fight.He turned to look Steve straight in the eyes, “Hail Hydra,” he announced as solemnly as he could muster.Alternates the ending of Thunderbolts 2016 #11, where instead of refusing Steve, Bucky lies to him and pretends to join Hydra, so he could find a way to snap his friend out of Kobik’s mind control. Steve sees through his lie, but he has own plans for his companion and intends to keep Bucky by his side.Their actions in the past have consequences on the present, however, and as Bucky returns to his timeline, he has to face them too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by [Ro](https://twitter.com/jro616?lang=en) and [Polaroidcs](https://polaroidcs.tumblr.com/)  
> Artwork by [Cobaltmoony](https://cobaltmoony.tumblr.com/)

**Part 1**

“Do you trust me?”

Bucky had heard this question before, while escaping S.H.I.E.L.D.’s custody. He’d had an answer to it back then — he did, he trusted Steve with his own life, trusted him more than he ever could trust himself. Back then, he’d chosen to run only because he didn’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D.

Now he had no idea, was lost and confused and wasn’t sure anymore what was real and what wasn’t.

The pain in his ribs didn’t help, making him dizzy, grounding him more than the chains around his body could. There was a soft buzz under his back, something inside the rocket whirring and clicking as if alive, making him terrified to even move a muscle not to set it off.

Last time only his sleeve was stuck to the fuse compartment panel, and it had cost him an arm. This time he was completely tied to it, and he knew there was no way he would survive.

Bucky couldn’t die, not here and now. Moreover not by the hand of Steve Rogers, his best friend, someone who he’d been looking up to his entire life, someone he knew well enough to understand the man would never side with Hydra, would never stand here next to Zemo Junior, trying to sway Bucky’s own allegiance of his own free will.

_Oh, Kobik, what have you done?_

“Just say it,” Steve prompted.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky tried to calm his pounding heart, to clear his head and think. He needed to escape, to figure out what was going on and how he could save his friend. Unfortunately, there was only one way to do it.

Every part of his being revolted at the idea, making him feel sick and nauseous, even if it was a lie, a pretence to buy more time. He opened his mouth once, but could only cough, tasting iron on his tongue, on his lips.

“Say. It,” Steve insisted more urgently. His voice was harsh, demanding, but Bucky noticed a note of fear in it too, as if the other man was genuinely afraid Bucky would refuse him.

Next to him, Zemo crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of impatience and rolled his eyes. He looked smug beside Steve, standing there as if he belonged. Bucky wanted to erase that smug expression on his face, because it annoyed him so much that he suddenly forgot about his pain, about the chains that held him tight and found the will to fight.

He turned to look Steve straight in the eyes, “Hail Hydra,” he announced as solemnly as he could muster.

***

The house he was moved to wasn’t big. There was a small kitchen and dining room combo, a living area that had two more doors leading into a master bedroom and a tiny study. It was rather cozy, however, and reminded Bucky of his old house in Virginia.

Three of the walls in the living room were painted a pleasant shade of green, while the last one was tiled with natural stone. Plush gray chairs and a sofa surrounded an ornate fireplace, statuettes of various farm animals standing on a shelf above it, a soft wool rug laid beneath.

The bedroom was bright, two large windows letting in plenty of sunlight. On the opposite side was a bed on a sturdy wooden frame and four posts, which was covered in feather blankets with the softest down pillows Bucky had ever touched.

All and all, it was a rather incredible house for the time period, and one of the most pleasant places Bucky had had a pleasure of staying at. Except, he was a prisoner here, at least as far as he was concerned. He had no idea where he was either, being transported here blindfolded and in a truck that he was sure made a lot of detours to confuse his sense of direction.

The view from both windows was a grassy field, mountains surrounding them from the south, forest from the north. There were plenty of places like this in Europe, and it didn’t give away much about his current location, leaving him to only guess.

Close to the house Bucky could see a military truck that brought them here, Steve and Zemo standing next to it, arguing about something. While it still hurt like nothing else to know they were working together, Bucky took some satisfaction in watching Zemo becoming annoyed with Steve, his body language closed off, hands clenched into fists.

Finally, the young baron threw his arms into the air and spun on his heel, stomping away. With his own arms crossed over his chest, Steve watched Zemo climb into the wagon of the truck and leave. Only when it disappeared behind a turn, the blond turned around and started to walk towards the house.

Not to be noticed watching, Bucky moved away from the window and went to sit on the bed. Immediately, he realized how tired he was, wanting to lay down and sleep for days. It wasn’t surprising, considering how long they drove here, and the fact he’d been in a big fight prior to it. Yet, he couldn’t afford to sleep just yet, he needed to put his game face on and play the role of a Hydra loyalist until the horizon cleared.

There was a light knock on the door, and a moment later Steve entered the room without waiting for Bucky to answer. He carried a wooden box, which he placed on the corner of the bed, and a covered platter, that he deposited on the wooden desk under one of the windows. Then he turned to Bucky and offered him a tired smile.

“How are you holding up?” he asked softly, his intonation so familiar that in any other circumstances Bucky would have never been able to tell something about him was wrong. “I’m sorry we had to blindfold you, it’s one of Helmut’s safehouses, and he wasn’t fond of you coming here.”

Bucky felt betrayed: he wanted to close up, to refuse to talk to Steve for what he’d done, for taking everything Bucky believed in, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it away like garbage. Or he wanted to snap something snarky in reply, but he bit his tongue. “I’m fine,” he offered blankly.

It made Steve frown and look at him with concern, and once again it was such a natural expression on him, it almost made Bucky ponder if everything that happened earlier was just a dream. Then again, it was way too bizarre to be one, and his body was still aching after being beaten up by androids, reassuring him in the reality of this situation.

“You’re are anything but fine, Buck,” Steve sighed and moved closer to the bed. He started to unbuckle his belt. “Take off your jacket,” he said with the insistence of an order and the gentleness of a request, the way only he could, and Bucky did a double take at it.

“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow, his mind suddenly starting to race in all kinds of directions, because his friend was towering over his sitting form like a mountain, his hands still pulling the belt out of the loops of his pants. And what the hell, really?

“You were injured,” Steve sighed deeply, hanging the belt on the chair, starting to tug the top part of his uniform over his head. “I know you well enough, you’d never tell even if you had half your ribs broken.”

Bucky blinked a few times, the meaning of his friend’s words finally starting to catch up with him. “Oh, yeah... okay.” He nodded dumbfounded. It wasn’t really his proudest moment, but he was tired and confused, and he’d just traveler back in time to find his best friend turned into a Hydra puppet.

Still reluctant, he started to unbutton the folds of his uniform. Steve was right, every part of Bucky’s body was in pain. It was dull, and he was able to push the thought of it away, still running on the leftovers of adrenalin. If he was going to sleep on a beating like this, he would barely able to move the next morning.

After taking off his blue jacket, Bucky dropped it unceremoniously onto the floor, and if Steve gave him a disapproving glare for that, he ignored it. Next was his undershirt, and soon he was sitting before the other man half naked and, for some reason, more self-conscious than he’d ever remembered.

It wasn’t really a surprise, considering how much smaller his current body was in comparison to Steve’s. If his memories and calculations were correct, this was 1945, almost the end of the war, and he’d just recently turned twenty. He was really well built for his age, but next to his friend he looked like a twig, and for some reason it was making him want to squirm.

He was also in a serious need of a shower, but food and sleep were priorities.

“I'm going to touch you, I need to see if your injuries are more serious than they look,” Steve warned.

Bucky wasn’t used to mistrusting his friend, but he wasn’t entirely sure how much his mind had changed. Still, he figured if Steve wanted to hurt him, he would’ve already done so, so he forced himself to nod.

Carefully, Steve placed his palm on the bruised skin of Bucky’s chest, moving it slowly against his ribs. “Do you have any problems breathing? Want to cough?” he asked.

Bucky almost missed the question because Steve’s hand was cool, a little calloused, but gentle, and it felt so good against his aching skin it made him want to relax and let his guard down. Without realizing it, he found himself closing his eyes and had to bite his lip from making a very undignified sound. “No, it’s fine, I promise,” he replied shaking his head, trying to keep his voice even.

The next moment the hand was gone, and when Bucky opened his eyes, he saw Steve pulling a stethoscope out of his medkit, placing a small cold diaphragm on Bucky’s chest. “You lied,” he stated casually. “Back at the warehouse.”

Maybe it was a coincidence that Steve chose to start this conversation while listening to the tempo of Bucky’s heart, but Bucky doubted it. His eyes flew wide open, and he stared at his friend in shock. “What do you mean?”

“When you said you would join Hydra,” Steve clarified, sounding surprisingly calm about it.

“Don’t know what you are talking about,” Bucky insisted.

“It’s fine,” Steve shook his head. “Now, take several deep breaths,” he directed, moving to listen to his lungs. “I’m not mad, you know. I’m glad you did it, actually.”

Bucky breathed in and out, slowly, then repeated the action. “Huh?”

“I’m glad you lied, instead of going all righteous on me. I wouldn't have been able to save you if you said anything other than what you did,” Steve explained softly, affectionate even, and his intonation made Bucky look him directly in the eyes. “I really don’t want to lose you.”

Steve’s face was suddenly very close to his, it made Bucky’s breath hitch, and there was no doubt Steve heard his heart starting to beat faster. Steve’s expression was fond and relaxed, and he looked so damn young.

Back in the day, he’d seemed so wise and all-knowing, but looking at him now, from the perspective of all the years Bucky had lived... God, Steve had been only twenty when he’d joined the war.

“Buck... now that there’s no more secrets between us, can I ask you something?” Steve continued a little quieter, removing the stethoscope from his ears. He placed it back into the box, then slowly reached out to cup Bucky’s jaw, sending his nerves into a complete overload. “Do you remember the way you used to look at me a few years back? When you thought no one could see it, when you thought I would never understand the meaning behind those glances.”

Bucky thought if his eyes could bulge even more, they would jump out of their sockets and roll under the bed. “Ugh, Steve...” he breathed out, feeling heat rising to his face.

It had been longer for him than a few years, but he remembered what Steve was talking about: his infatuation with him when they’d only just started to work with each other. Looking at it now, Bucky didn't think it was all that surprising. In fact, if he’d met a single person who worked with Captain America, be it a man or a woman, and they told him they’d never had a crush on him, he’d accuse them of lying. It didn’t even have to be sexual, it was just that Steve had one of those magnetic personalities that made everyone who actually made an effort to get to know him, at least a little, admire the guy.

For Bucky it might’ve gone a little deeper. To the point where he wondered if there was something seriously wrong with him, at least by the standards of the forties. He’d managed to ignore it, push it away until he moved on, until he met Gretchen and allowed his feelings for her to override the ones he had for Steve, until one day he stopped thinking about how it would feel to kiss his friend altogether.

And he’d been so sure he did a great job of hiding it all. Apparently, he was mistaken.

“Bucky,” Steve sighed, leaning even closer to him, reminding him he was shirtless and exposed, and an almost violent tremble ran down his spine. “Do you still feel this way? Because now we can make it happen. The world might think it’s wrong, immoral, sick, even. But Hydra is different. No one will judge us here.”

“God, Rogers, can you even hear yourself?” Bucky groaned, ignoring his body lighting up at the promise in his friend’s voice. “Please don’t tell me you joined Hydra just so you could sleep with me,” he tried to joke, because he had no idea what else to do.

That was not the best of decisions, because Steve chuckled softly, and the sound of it lit fireworks in Bucky’s stomach. It wasn’t arousal, not even close, just a lot of feelings trying to surface at the same time, shifting, confusing all his senses.

Bucky didn’t like men like that, it’d been just this thing he used to have for Steve a long, long time ago. And even then it’d been just a few fleeting thoughts of what if, and a couple of more lewd fantasies. He’d even forgotten he’d had it, until Steve decided to slam him with a reminder without a single concern for what it might entail.

Steve stopped advancing, leaving a little space between them, enough that Bucky could maneuver either towards him or away if he chose so. He just sat there on the bed next to Bucky like a formidable presence. A super human in body and mind, now belonging to the enemy, to Hydra. And here he was giving Bucky a choice.

And that simple thing affirmed it to Bucky, this was the real Steve Rogers, not a strange double, not one of Zemo’s androids covered in realistic human skin. His Steve, his friend, just brainwashed. And, well, Bucky did know a thing or two about it.

He squinted his eyes, then opened them again, forcing himself to look directly at his friend. “It’s late,” he sighed finally, moving away, relieved Steve didn’t follow him. He didn’t even look upset or annoyed by it.

Instead, Steve turned to the medkit again and pulled two glass tubes which Bucky recognized as standard issue military medication containers. “You're not injured seriously enough to give you morphine,” he said, after running his eyes up and down Bucky’s bruised torso and hiding one of the viles back into the box. “Take some aspirin, then eat. There isn’t much fresh food in the house, but it’s better than nothing,” he said, nodding at the platter on the table which he brought earlier.

Then Steve stood up and walked towards the table so casually, as if nothing had just transpired between them. There, he picked up a pitcher and poured some water into a glass, offering it to Bucky to flush down the pills. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything,” he said finally.

At this point, Bucky had not a slightest idea as to what else he might need, so he nodded one more time. Silently, still finishing drinking his water, he watched Steve leave the bedroom and close the door behind himself.

***

Bucky was exhausted, and after chugging down three pills of aspirin, the pain in his chest subsided significantly, yet he still wasn’t able to fall asleep. Maybe it was the bed that felt too soft, maybe it was the stress, but he could only lay very still, looking at the wooden ceiling, his mind buzzing with thoughts as if someone replaced his brain with a beehive.

It wasn’t summer, at least Bucky didn’t think so, because the air outside the cabin was too cool, but there were crickets chirping somewhere under the window, wind playing with the the tree tops. The sounds of the nature were so loud, he couldn’t fail to notice every one of them.

Maybe the noise added to the list of things to blame his insomnia on, but then again, once he had fallen asleep in the engine room of a spaceship. Here it was dead quiet in comparison.

After about an hour, he thought he was finally starting to drift away. That was when he heard something, a voice calling his name.

“Bucky,” the voice giggled. “Buckaroo!”

He opened his eyes only to find himself in pitch black darkness, so potent he wasn’t able to see a thing. Every sound from outside was gone, and he felt as if he was floating in emptiness. “Kobik?” he called out, looking around for the source of the voice.

A second passed, then another, and he saw blue light appearing next to him, a little girl materializing at his side, grabbing him by the hand. “Hi, Bucky-bee, I’m so happy you decided to join us all!”

“Who all?” Bucky asked, frowning.

“Oh, just Mister Skull, and Mister Professor, and S.H.I.E.L.D., and Hydra! We can all be friends now!” she announced cheerfully, smiling widely as if expecting him to be pleased.

“What did you do, Kobik? Is this even real?” Bucky almost pleaded, hoping still for everything around to be just an illusion.

“Of course it’s real, silly!” She nodded. “I changed the history, I made Steve like Hydra.”

Bucky had already guessed it, but now he had a confirmation of his theory. Kobik had altered Steve’s mind to join Hydra’s cause, the same way she did with all the criminals in the Pleasant Hill. “Kobik, no.” He shook his head. “Hydra is evil, you have to change everything back! Please!”

This time Kobik pulled her hand away from his, her arms crossing over her chest. “Oh, now you’re just being a meanie, Buckaroo.” She pouted, looking as if almost ready to stomp her tiny foot.

“But I’m telling the truth! Hydra wants nothing else but complete world domination.”

“Of course we do!” Kobik nodded, and the way she said ‘we’ instead of ‘they’ made Bucky shiver. “But only because we want all people to be happy!”

Bucky bit his lower lip, having absolutely no idea what he could even say to convince her. He was supposed to be her guardian, he was supposed to teach her to distinguish good from evil, but it looked like she’d been under the influence of someone else all along. Someone with a completely skewed perspective.

“Hydra kills people, innocent people, to achieve their goals,” he insisted.

“No-no-no!” She floated upwards into the air to be eye level with him, her small hand pointing at him, almost poking him in the nose. “We only punish bad people.”

It was obvious whoever was convincing her Hydra’s goals were justified, had lied to her, but he had no way of proving it. He only had his word against the word of Hydra, and it might sound less convincing to a child, considering she thought she was bringing people together, while Bucky wanted to break everyone apart.

_Dammit._

There was something else she did, and Bucky needed to know how exactly _that_ was fitting into Hydra's grand scheme. “Why did you made Steve like me?” he asked seriously.

This time Kobik looked at him confused. “Huh? Weren’t you already liking each other?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Yes, but...” he paused, trying to come up with a suitable way of explaining this to a four-year-old.

Thankfully, she saved him from needing to do it. “I did nothing else to him, but made him see good in Hydra,” she announced solemnly. “Everything else, I didn’t touch. He’s still Steve, absolutely same, unchanged! Cross my heart.”

Bucky stared at her in surprise, unsure how to take this information. He didn’t have a doubt she was telling the truth, which meant Steve really was interested in him, at least to an extent. Somehow, this revelation was almost more world-shattering than finding out he worked for the enemy.

“Uh-oh,” Kobik sighed, looking somewhere into the distance. “I guess, I gotta go. But I’m gonna visit!” she added cheerfully. “And you and Steve have a good vacation,” she wished with a smile.

Then, before Bucky had time to even open his mouth, Kobik was gone, and he was back in the cabin in the middle of some grassy hills, on a bed that was way too soft. For a moment, he laid there completely still, listening to the crickets outside, rubbing his forehead.

“Well... _fuck_ ,” he muttered into the dark air of the bedroom feeling even more lost now.

“Bucky,” he heard Steve from another room, his admonishing voice muffled by the wooden door between them. “Language!”


	2. Chapter 2

The morning came and went. Bucky thought he woke up partially at least once, hearing someone roaming around the house. Yet, the gait was familiar, and his brain immediately classified his surroundings as safe, sending him right back to the dreamless slumber.

The next time he was woken by the knock on his door. “Buck, wake up,” Steve called, making him want to cuss and curl into a ball. He almost did so, but felt a sharp pang of pain the moment he tried to move. “It’s almost two in the afternoon, I’m going to make food.”

Groaning, Bucky opened his eyes completely, finding himself in an unfamiliar room. Events of the previous several days started to catch up with him, making him want to punch someone. Preferably Steve, who opened the door to the hallway and stood in its threshold, even if their current situation wasn’t his fault.

“You want more aspirin?” Steve chuckled, his voice warm like a ray of false hope.

Instead of answering, Bucky reached out with his hand, holding it out expectantly. In his periphery, he watched Steve walking into the room, pulling more pills from the medkit and placing them onto Bucky’s open palm before moving to retrieve more water.

It was unpleasant to move even a muscle to hold the glass, but all and all, Bucky considered it could’ve been worse. Steve could’ve started the day by proclaiming his undying devotion to Hydra, or reading their hymns about cutting heads. That would’ve most definitely ruined the rest of Bucky’s day.

“There’s hot water in the house. Soaking in the tub would help the bruises,” Steve proposed, and for once Bucky didn’t feel like arguing.

***

Indeed, there was hot water in the house. And electricity. And it was standing alone, isolated from the rest of civilization. Bucky hadn’t noted it last night out of exhaustion, and because he was used to things like that in the twenty-first century. Yet, for 1945 this was a ridiculous expense, so whoever owned the place had immense resources. Then again, Bucky had been already told who it belonged to, so perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising.

The bathroom itself was huge in comparison to the rest of the place as if it belonged in a ten bedroom mansion and not in a small cabin style home. The walls and floor here were made of brown marble, and a rather spacious porcelain tub stood in the very center of the room.

As Bucky started the water and waited for it to be filled, he moved to look at himself in a large mirror above the sink.

It was strange to see himself so young, his face only recently lost the childish roundness, the fuzz on his chin only now started to turn into real stubble. His hair was a complete mess after over twelve hours of sleep, but he looked better now than he thought he would. Dark circles that he used to see under his eyes were barely noticeable, making the brown of his irises look clearer somehow.

Carefully, wincing from pain, he pulled his undershirt over his head. His chest looked horrible under it, covered in angry, purple bruises, but the edges were already starting to turn a little bluer, which meant he was healing.

He wished he had a toothbrush and a razor, but he settled for opening the faucet, gathering water with his palms and bringing it to his lips to rinse his mouth. Then he splashed some of it over his face, his head, the coolness of it helping him wake up completely, feel refreshed even.

There was a big, sour side to it, because now his brain decided it was the time to start thinking clearly, mull over everything said and done in the past few days.

The worst part was not even traveling back in time, or finding out Steve’s mind was indoctrinated by fragments of a cosmic cube that manifested themselves in a form of a four-year-old girl. No, the worst part was that at some point it’d stopped being weird and felt like a common, everyday occurrence, a new puzzle to solve.

When did his life even become such a disaster?

Oh, and also Steve wanted to sleep with him. And Kobik said she only changed the part where Steve wanted to be with Hydra. And what was Bucky supposed to believe? That Steve wanted him the entire time and decided to tell him only because Hydra opened his eyes, or something?

A darker, more pragmatic part of him wanted to use it to his advantage. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to bed someone for information or an access to a location. It’d been all women, of course, but surely this wasn’t going to be more difficult.

He used to be curious about doing it with Steve before, but it was a long time ago. Still, when he thought about it now, he felt no repulsion at the idea. And people were way more easily persuadable in the post-orgasmic haze. And they were less likely to try to kill  him.

Bucky reached for a towel hanging on a rack on a wall and wiped the water from his face, before his eyes returned to the mirror, meeting the judgemental gaze of his own young self.

God, who was he kidding? As if sex with Steve, with any version of him, could ever be impersonal for him. He’d already  _ loved _ Steve, and sleeping with him would only lead to one end: he was going to fall  _ in love  _ with him, utterly and desperately. It was going to be as bad as he’d loved Natasha, and that memory still stung more than he cared to admit.

Then again, was it really about him? If he could keep Steve loyal to him, and keep him away from Hydra, did it really matter? Wasn’t the fate of the world more important than his heart breaking?

The sound of someone knocking almost made him jump.

“May I come in?” Steve asked from the other side, and Bucky half expected him to barge in again. Steve didn’t, waiting patiently for a reply instead.

Sighing, Bucky looked down at himself. The house had been a little chilly last night, but the blankets on the bed were thick, and he’d slept only in his underwear, too tired to think better of it. Now he stood there in his briefs. Then again, it was nothing Steve hadn’t seen before.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied finally, returning to the tub and checking the temperature of the water, adjusting the faucets.

Steve entered the bathroom carrying a stack of clothes in his hands. “Here,” he said placing them on a shelf next to the sink. “The house was stocked with everything I might need, but I’m afraid there’s nothing in your size,” he explained apologetically. “But it’s all new, just out of its package.”

Steve’s eyes landed on Bucky and he looked him up and down appraisingly. Then his gaze moved passed him, onto the bathtub. “It’s pretty big,” he observed casually, yet the way his lips quirked in a smile, Bucky had no doubt where his thoughts went.

Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore his own nervousness. “Are you going to continue this?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Make passes at me?”

The smile on Steve’s face widened. “That’s the plan. Unless you actually ask me to stop.”

Bucky opened his mouth and closed it again, no sound escaping him. He felt his cheeks burn and turned away to check the water again to conceal it. “I hope you don’t plan to stand there watching me take a bath,” he said instead. Not that it would be a new thing either. Hell, the barracks at the camp Lehigh had communal showers, and Bucky himself had snuck a handful of glances all over the blond when he was just a sixteen-year-old kid, and...

Bucky gritted his teeth, trying to push every inappropriate thought away. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Steve nodded and turned around, exiting the bathroom, leaving Bucky to stand over the tub cursing at own stupidity, and ponder if he was really going to go through with the most terrible idea of his life.

***

There’d been barely any food offered to Bucky the night before, just some bread and old, rubbery beef jerky, which was so hard he’d needed to be careful not to break his teeth. Today, something in the kitchen smelled really good. Following his nose, Bucky stumbled in on his friend fussing over the stove. The picture terrified him a little, because he was well aware Steve couldn’t cook to save his life.

“At least if you burn down the house, you would technically be destroying enemy property,” Bucky scoffed, then almost bit his tongue, because he was supposed to be pretending to be on Hydra’s side. Yet, Steve had always been one of just two people in the entire world Bucky was able to fully relax around and be completely himself with. This habit was difficult to ignore.

Steve didn’t say anything but chuckled, his expression soft again. Instead, he pulled plates out of a cupboard and started to fill them with boiled potatoes, before reaching somewhere deeper into the pot and pulling out a piece of what looked to be a boiled chunk of pork.

The table was set up, too. There were salt and pepper shakers on it, a stick of butter, a few tiny yellow apples. It looked like nothing much, but they were in Europe during the war. Having butter to melt over the potatoes was as much of a luxury as a bathtub with hot water. Not to mention that piece of meat was almost the size of his fist. Even if he was sure Steve managed to make it taste like a burnt tire.

“So, I was wondering, when are you going to give me the talk. About the benefits of joining Hydra and all?” Bucky asked as they were sitting down, and he started to stab the potatoes with the fork, moving them from the common plate to his own, smaller one.

“Why?” Steve raised an eyebrow, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table and taking a plate for himself.

“Because,” Bucky sighed. He paused thinking what to say next, and when he started to speak again, he knew that every word that escaped his mouth was complete truth. “Because  _ I know you. _ Because I fought with you, I laughed with you, I cried and pretended I haven’t cried with you. You’re a good man. The best I’ve ever known. I need to know what you see in Hydra that makes you follow them.”

Steve watched him closely for a moment, as if trying to find something in his expression. “Look at the war around us,” he started finally. “People have so many differences they can’t look past, the structures of their government, ideologies, religion. But if Hydra can take over, can unite everyone under one rule... the fighting will be over forever.”

“You’re not this naive, dammit!” Bucky breathed out, unable to believe his ears. “Hydra is just a bunch of murderers!”

Steve’s expression turned a little disappointed, but he still seemed calm, understanding. “You’ve dealt with them for what, four years now? I’ve been raised by them since I was six. Don’t you think I would know better?”

Bucky stared at him in shock, for a moment forgetting about his food. “Raised?” Bucky was surprised, even aware how Kobik was capable of altering memories. “What about your mother, what about your life in Brooklyn?”

“I did live in Brooklyn,” Steve confirmed. “Then my father died after drinking too much and falling into the East River. My mom...” He paused, looking down at a piece of potato he was trying to pierce with his fork, turning a little somber. “Well, there was a different accident. It doesn’t matter, I was taken under Whitehall's wing after that, was relocated into his mansion in England.”

Bucky made an effort not to cringe hearing the name. He’d never dealt with Daniel Whitehall personally, he’d barely even heard of him, only having access to rumors and scraps of information. But what he knew wasn’t painting a pretty picture. Human trafficking, unethical experiments, theft and murder were only the start of his horrible deeds.

“And so you want to say everything I knew about you was a lie the entire time?” Bucky hummed. “And you’re telling me all of it now, because I discovered your secret?”

He imagined it for a moment, if this entire scenario was the truth. It probably would’ve felt like his life ending, and Bucky didn’t think he could’ve ever forgiven him.

Steve took a deep breath and shook his head. “There’ve been so many times when I wanted to tell you, wanted to ask you to switch sides.”

“Sorry, Steve, don’t think it would’ve happened.”

“It will happen. One day you’ll see our point. When Hydra triumphs, you will be by my side.”

Bucky snorted at that, his tone turning sarcastic. “As what? A consort?”

“Yes,” Steve replied simply, as if it was the most natural thing to say.

Grinding his teeth, Bucky forced himself to look away. He focused on his plate again, starting to cut a potato in half with his fork, before he sent the chunk into his mouth. Even with butter, it took him a few moments to chew and swallow it, but it was the point, eating was giving him time to think. “And if I won’t? Will you just keep me here?”

“I hope it won’t come to that,” Steve replied quietly. His voice was still even, but Bucky couldn’t miss the note of disappointment there too, as if not getting through to Bucky would be the worst thing that could happen to him. 

Awkward silence hung between them, and Bucky used it to concentrate on his food. He tried to eat as long as he could, drag it out as much as possible, not wanting to even try small talk at the moment.

As they were finishing the meal, Steve leaned over the table and relocated his own portion of chewy, but thankfully edible meat onto Bucky’s plate. “You need to eat up to heal better,” he said, explaining his action.

And that, somehow, was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Bucky jumped up from his spot, overthrowing the chair behind him onto the floor. “Stop it!” he snapped. “Don’t tell me you want to take over the world under Hydra’s flag, then be so damn nice to me!”

His left fist hit the table, hard enough Bucky thought he was going to break the wood it was made of. Instead, as his real skin collided with the surface, he was rewarded with a jab of sharp pain that made his eyes water. He tried to hide it, but he’d almost forgotten what it felt like, to have any acute sensation in his left arm, and was unable to hold back a quiet whimper from escaping his lips.

Not waiting for a reaction from Steve, Bucky spun on his heel and left the kitchen. Silently, he reached the bedroom, sat down onto the bed and only then allowed himself to make another pained sound, cradling his abused hand in an attempt to soothe the sensations.

The skin over his knuckles was broken, bloodied. Carefully, he moved his fingers to check if he broke anything, cursing himself for forgetting his arm was not made out of metal yet.

This time Steve didn’t even knock as he followed him into the bedroom. He appeared before Bucky with a tired, but understanding expression and went straight for the medkit that still stood on the nightstand.

“I keep telling you Hydra is not what you think we are,” he said, kneeling before Bucky. He reached for his injured hand as if it was the most natural thing, as if he used to do this every day, scolding Bucky like a child while treating his wounds. And hell, he had, hadn’t he? “But when I behave different from your expectations, trying to show you there’s good in Hydra, you snap like this.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, just allowed his hand to be taken. Silently, he watched Steve pull out a bottle of peroxide, carefully disinfecting the skin. 

His hand was almost burning with sensations the entire time. It wasn’t even because it hurt, but because Steve was touching it, his calloused fingers holding it in a tight but careful grip. He remembered all the cold trenches they’d been huddled in during the war, Steve’s arm thrown over his shoulder. All the embraces, and pats on shoulders shared between them.

After outgrowing his crush, touching Steve was so easy, natural even. Now it felt like he was a stupid kid again. Only worse, because if back then Steve was just a fantasy, now he was practically offering himself up on a silver platter.

And crap, Bucky was really starting to want to take him up on that offer. And not because he thought it was a good way to manipulate the man, which was even worse.

“Why?” he asked quietly, his voice raspy, which made him sound like his older self again. “Why do you want me?”

Steve didn’t reply at first, and Bucky had already opened his mouth to elaborate further when his friend finally spoke. “Because,” he said. “Because when I saw you looking at me, I... I was baffled at first, hoped I was just imagining it. Then I caught myself on a thought that I didn’t mind, that I actually hoped I was reading it correctly.”

“You’ve never tried—“

“Then I’d have to beat myself up,” Steve interrupted, looking at him sharply. “You were sixteen, Buck, and there are lines no one should cross. Plus, there’s all that notion about two men together being unnatural, and I didn’t want to mess up your life.”

Bucky almost laughed. “I was trained to kill people since I was fifteen. I  _ was _ killing people a year after that. And sleeping with a man was going to mess up my life?”

Steve sighed in exasperation. “Well, if it was possible to go back in time and change the past, I would've done it. To prevent you from killing people, I mean, not so we could sleep together,” he added refocusing on Bucky’s hand. Steve made a quick job of wrapping bandages around Bucky’s knuckles, his neck becoming just a little redder.

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from bursting out laughing this time. “Yeah, that’s too bad, pal,” he said amused. “If only there was a way to time travfff—“

Steve moved fast, and Bucky was silenced by lips that pressed to his mouth, moving against him rather unsure, but demanding all the same. Steve was kissing him, and it was such a bizarre concept, Bucky could do nothing but sit there and marvel at the texture of his lips, and how completely okay he was with it.

No, they shouldn't be doing this. Bucky still had no idea how much the timeline was changing by finding out Steve used to be attracted to him, he didn’t really have time to think about it. Moreover, he was still not over Natasha, and Steve... Steve had Sharon.

Then again, technically, at this point in time, both of them were single, so did it really matter?

He felt Steve exhale through his nose before moving away, and Bucky swore at himself mentally for wanting to lean in after him and recapture his lips. “You seem distracted,” the other man observed.

That made Bucky roll his eyes. “Why, nice deduction there, Sherlock,” he scoffed. “I mean, how often does your best friend kiss you?”

“And you seem to still continue deflecting anything with jokes.”

“Yeah, nothing seems to change that.”

“But you are not trying to stop me,” Steve observed.

“Can I even do that?”

“What do you think?” he hummed before leaning back in, kissing Bucky one more time, with the same level of resolve. Except, this time it was also different, because Bucky found himself kissing him back almost immediately.

What was he doing? Of course, he could blame it on his youth, but he wasn’t twenty in reality. Hell, a few more years and he was going to go into triple digits, so that wasn’t an excuse.

And Steve had such soft lips, it was almost a crime, moreover on someone who looked like a brick house, sturdy and reliable even under Hydra’s brainwashing.

_ Crap. _

Bucky reached out, his hands landing on Steve’s chest, fingers running against hard muscle, enjoying the unfamiliarity of strange curves. Slowly but surely, he started to slide them down, towards Steve’s waist, wrapping them around it.

The kiss was sloppy, and Bucky remembered that Steve had barely any experience with this. Yet, they were both enthusiastic, their tongues sliding against each other almost greedily.

And then Steve pushed him until his back touched the puffy mattress. At the same time he grabbed Bucky by both wrists and pinned them over his head. He wasn’t holding too tight, but his grip was firm, and Bucky doubted he would’ve been able to get out, even if he had his metal arm now. He was completely trapped, remembering how strong Steve was, how he could simply force anything on Bucky, leaving him with no chance of escaping or resisting.

Steve could simply hold him in place and have him any way he wanted.

It should’ve scared him, should’ve made him panic, but what Bucky felt was far from fear. White, hot fire of arousal burst from his stomach, spreading so fast it left him breathless. It took only a few seconds, and he felt himself start to get hard, so rapidly it made him dizzy, his hips rolling forward without his control.

“What should I even do with you?” Steve smirked, moving away just enough to look at him, his eyes running up and down Bucky’s body, gaze almost predatory.

“Are you accepting suggestions now?” Bucky licked his lips. He needed to ask to stop, needed just a little more time to think about it, but under Steve’s heated stare, his reasoning was starting to slip away.

“I think I can figure it out on my own.” Steve sounded breathless, shifting to pin him to the bed with the weight of his entire body.

This time it felt like Bucky was slammed with a battering ram, pain spreading over his bruised chest, leaving him gasp for air. For several seconds he saw nothing but white before his eyes, heard ringing in his ears. He wanted to push through it, wait it out and pretend nothing was bothering him, but apparently his reactions were not as subtle as he hoped.

Steve stilled. It took him a second to react, his mind most likely a little too preoccupied to realize what happened. “Sorry,” he apologized, immediately releasing Bucky’s wrists and getting up until there was not a single point of contact between them.

“Dammit,” Bucky muttered, glad that the source of his discomfort was gone, but also starting to miss the solid warmth as the pain began subsiding.

“I think we should wait until your injuries are healed,” Steve proposed.

Bucky groaned, hoping it didn’t sound too much like disappointment. “Yeah, I think it would be for the best,” he agreed, realizing suddenly how far he’d almost gone, how decidedly not thought out his actions were.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, reaching out again, his palm brushing Bucky’s cheek. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have pushed, but just feeling you—”

He never finished his words, the sound of a horn interrupting him. They both heard a vehicle outside approach , and both turned towards the window, even if it was impossible to see anything from the bed.

Steve’s expression changed immediately, concern settling on his face. “He’s earlier than I expected.” 

“Helmut,” Bucky muttered, not even needing to guess who it was. “Are you leaving now?” he asked. His voice was accusing, and not even because Steve was leaving him, but because it meant he was going to go do some really unsavory things for Hydra.

“Yes, I have some business to attend,” Steve said, straightening his clothes and moving towards the exit, and Bucky really wished he had a sniper rifle, so he could shoot the bastard outside in the car. “I should return later tonight. For your own safety, please don’t leave the premises,” he added before he was out of the bedroom.

Bucky waited a little, until he heard the entrance door opening and closing, then got up from the bed and moved to the window, seeing his friend getting into a dirt-colored Kübelwagen. He stood there completely still until it drove down a dusty road, disappearing somewhere behind a line of trees. Then, he leaned against a wall, covering his still too hot face with a cool palm of the unbandaged hand.

This was so, so much worse than he’d initially thought.

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Everything was quiet, not even a single floorboard creaked as Bucky walked around the house. The place belonged to the Zemos, Bucky had gathered as much, but it also looked as if it had been repurposed for Steve.

There were stacks of supplies here, clean clothes, most in Steve’s size. Books on the shelves were to his taste, a few of them Bucky had even seen him reading before. Still, even if cozy, the place didn’t feel lived in, and Bucky didn’t think Steve stayed here often. Perhaps, all things considered, it was the first time he was using it.

On the coffee table in the living room, Bucky spotted a familiar notebook, several pencils laying next to it. Picking it up, he started to flip through it, seeing familiar faces sketched across the pages. A lot of them were images of Peggy, but there were pictures of him, too, of the Howling Commandos and the Invaders.

The last image was a little disturbing. It was like Steve had tried to draw something, but he had no idea what. It was a strange misshapen blob that looked neither person, nor a thing. Steve, it seemed, hadn’t taken a liking to it, so half of the image was just black swirls. 

Shaking his head, Bucky closed the book and returned it back onto the table.

It took a little time, but he was finally able to find his own boots in a closet by the entrance. At least Steve hadn’t thrown them away to keep him inside. Not that it would’ve stopped him, but Bucky was glad he didn’t have to leave the house barefoot.

As he stepped out, he realized it was the first time he saw it from outside, being blindfolded the entire way here. It was rather unremarkable, just a cottage made of dark wood, without a distinguishable architectural style, which made it look as if it could belong anywhere in Europe. Then again, maybe it was the plan.

Next to it was a metal garage, and Bucky grinned to himself as he managed to pick the lock with a small piece of wire he found on the ground. His grin turned into a full smile when he opened the gate and saw a motorcycle inside.

It wasn’t Steve’s bike, at least not his Harley, but a black German BMW. It didn’t look new, but was well taken care of, and Bucky couldn’t help but admire it. He checked the fuel tank next, discovering it was almost full, which meant he had a possible way of escaping if needed.

His chest felt better now, after having moved around and taking a hot bath, but it still hurt as he left the garage and started to climb onto the roof of the house. He doubted it was going to help him to determine where he was, but he felt he needed to try.

There was nothing around but forest and mountains, not a single landmark he could orient himself by. Of course, he could simply ride the bike down the road, but he had more chances to stumble upon enemy encampments than  a friendly settlement and get himself captured again. Besides, if he left now, he wouldn’t be able to help Steve.

Not to mention all the other things he wouldn’t be able to do with him, a small, treacherous part of his mind provided, making Bucky want to roll his eyes. 

Stretching his legs over dark-brown, warm under the sun tiles, he looked over the mountain valley, pondering his predicament. At this point, he had no doubt he was going to end up sleeping with Steve. Even while his friend seemed a little inexperienced, he was rather assertive and forward with his advances, and if their previous encounter was anything to go by Bucky also had absolutely no self-restraint when it came to Steve.

That only left him with the question of what it was going to do to him, to them. He really didn’t want to manipulate him in this manner, and had no right doing it for pleasure while Steve wasn’t himself, because it felt like taking advantage.

Perhaps, Bucky just needed to talk to him instead. Even brainwashed, Steve seemed like a reasonable person. Maybe, if Bucky told him the entire truth, it would trigger something in his mind, help him recover memories about who he really was.

As he returned inside the house, Bucky noticed a strange crease on the carpet. Curious, he pulled it by the corner, revealing more wooden floor and a trapdoor underneath it. Once opened, there was a staircase leading down to a dark basement.

His triumph about the discovery was short lived. Whatever he hoped to see there — a secret lab, or a study full of documents containing answers to all his questions — it wasn’t exactly it. Yet, Bucky couldn’t say it was a bad find. As he located a lamp cord hanging from the ceiling and turned the lights on, he found himself surrounded by casks and wine racks. He picked one bottle at a random, noting a French label that indicated it was red and made before the beginning of the war.

Hopeful, he searched for secret passages, for more doors, for anything that would move out of the way to reveal hidden nooks, but there was nothing of the sort, just more wine of various color and age.

“Are you playing hide’n’seek?” came a cheerful small voice beside him, and Bucky almost jumped in surprise.

“Kobik,” he exhaled in relief, relaxing his body which went into a fighting stance. “Please don’t appear so suddenly, I could accidentally hurt you.”

“I doubt it.” She waved her hand, then looked around. “Uhh, you found such a good hiding spot! Is Stevie the one looking for you? He’ll never find you!”

“Yeah, well. More like I’m looking for him,” Bucky sighed.

“Ohh!” Kobik clapped in excitement. “I’m gonna help you!”

And then, before he could even try protesting, she was grabbing him by the hand. Everything became translucent, and Bucky felt as if gravity disappeared around them. For several moments he floated in the air, then started to fall, his feet touching the ground that wasn’t the floor of the cellar.

“What the...” He looked around. “Where are we?”

“Oh, just a few miles north from where I found you. Near Bremen, like in the fairy tale about singing animals!”

They appeared on top of a hill overlooking a hangar of some sort, similar to the one where Bucky had been captured not so long ago. Cargo trucks surrounded it, Hydra foot troops carrying crates in and out. It was already evening but the sun hadn’t set yet, so there was plenty of light, and Bucky stood above it all, where any of them could look up and spot him.

Reacting fast, he ducked behind the closest bush and pulled Kobik after himself, hissing at her in disapproval. “How many times have I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, not to use my powers for games.” She shrugged. “But Mister Skull is busy and you’re playing with Stevie, and I’m bored.”

“This is not a game!” Bucky snapped at her, before forcing his expression to soften. “I’m trying to save both you and Steve, because I care about you. I know you believe Hydra is good, but I don’t.”

She pouted and pulled her hand away from his grip. “I know,” she said. “And Mister Skull told me to change your mind, too. But I won’t. I want you to believe on your own.”

This time Bucky looked at her in surprise. “Why?”

Kobik shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know,” she replied. “You’re different.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile hearing it, his hand landing on her tiny shoulder, giving it a gentle pat. It was a good thing she thought this way. Not because Bucky wanted to be special for her but because maybe it meant she was starting to understand it was wrong to change who people were. That it was wrong to manipulate their minds, making them fight for the side they didn’t believe in.

“Alright, Little Soldier,” he asked her. “Do you want to go on a real mission with me?” He still didn’t like the idea of taking her anywhere dangerous, even if he understood she wasn’t likely to get harmed. Still, he knew he couldn’t keep her shield her from the world all the time, it wasn’t the right way of protecting anyone. “It will be only reconnaissance, and you will stay close to me at all times.”

Her eyes shone brighter immediately and she saluted him. “Yes, Buckaroo, Agent Kobik is ready to report!”

***

The inside of the hangar had no guards, as if they didn’t expect anyone to teleport there directly. Instead, it was filled with more boxes and containers. Bucky couldn’t check all of them, but he recognized some which he knew contained androids. There was something else in here, too. Some sort of parts, equipment half set-up. He couldn’t even start to guess the purpose of it, but Hydra was most definitely getting ready for a big operation.

“I must admit, you made quite a progress during the last day and a half,” Bucky heard a familiar voice. Looking down from his hiding spot, behind a pile of crates, he saw Steve walking into the hangar, Helmut following him. “Your father would be proud of you.”

“My father wouldn’t even notice my success,” Helmut replied calmly, yet there was sadness to his intonation. “In some ways, I’m grateful he isn’t here.”

Steve sighed pointedly, loud enough that even Bucky could hear it. “If you say so.” He shook his head, obviously not pleased by the confession.

“Well, everything is going according to plan, we will be ready to move out in three days. I hope your inspection was to your undisclosed standards,” he added a little sarcastically.

Steve glanced at Helmut with no humor in his expression. “In this case, I’ve seen enough. I’m going to return to Bucky before rejoining you for the operation.”

Helmut made a displeased sound as he heard the name. “What do you even see in him? I can find you a small harem of men and women, whatever you prefer, willing to—”

“This is none of your concern, Helmut,” Steve interrupted, sounding cold and angry now.

Bucky’s heart, meanwhile, skipped a beat as he heard the conversation taking a turn in this direction. He and Steve used to share a very close relationship during the war, were practically inseparable, but no one had ever assumed anything about them. Hell, even when General Phillips had called Bucky Steve’s girlfriend a few times, when Logan had suggested their partnership was only good for dancing, it was all just insults, no real implication behind them.

Helmut talked like if he honestly believed he and Steve had slept with each other.

Then Bucky remembered his friend mentioning Hydra didn’t care about men being together, and he wondered how  _ did _ he find out about it. Did he go asking what particular kind of minorities were welcomed into Hydra? Was it printed somewhere on a Hydra recruitment pamphlets?

He imagined both of the versions and almost snickered. Then, any mood for jokes was knocked out of him, as he watched Helmut stepping closer to Steve, his palm landing on the bigger man’s chest.

“I think your attachment to him won’t do you any good.” He shook his head, his hand rubbing the star on Steve’s uniform in a manner that wouldn’t have been called something else but intimate. “Besides...” He leaned in to Steve, so it almost looked he was about to kiss him. Instead, he whispered something into his ear, which was too quiet to hear.

Bucky almost exploded with rage, watching this new development unfold, watching Helmut touching Steve as if he owned him, as if it wasn’t the first time he was doing it. It made him want to run out, punch the young baron in the face, pull him away from his friend, the consequences be damned.

To his relief, Steve didn’t seem to reciprocate these advances. Taking a deep breath, he stepped away from Helmut. “Let me deal with it,” he said indifferently, the expression on his face betraying no emotion.

Helmut frowned at him, but didn’t push, didn’t try anything else. “Very well,” he replied simply and let Steve walk away.

It was his cue for Bucky to turn to Kobik. “We should go now,” he whispered to her.

***

When Steve returned to the cabin, it was way past midnight. He was changed back from his uniform into a pair of khaki pants and a simple white button-up shirt, a duffel bag of unknown origin was in his hand. He seemed in a good mood, his smile looking warm and genuine.

By this time, Kobik had left again, excited about doing a great job on her mission. Bucky worried about her, but it wasn’t like he could keep her here. At least it seemed Skull had no intention of mistreating her while he still needed her, and he could find some solace in that.

Left alone for another few hours, Bucky took one more bath to make sure he didn’t smell like soot from the hangar. Then he found the leftover potatoes and finished them, before pulling the oldest and most expensive looking bottle he could find from the cellar.

A big ceramic mug in his hands, he settled to lounge on the couch, watching the flames dancing in a newly started fireplace, enjoying their warmth on his skin, and the warmth of the wine inside his stomach.

As Steve entered the house, his eyes stopped on the bottle almost immediately, and his expression turned stern.

“Don’t even try saying anything,” Bucky said before he had a chance to open his mouth. “We’re somewhere in Europe, and last I checked local bars serve to twenty year olds,” he added, not bothering to mention he now knew the exact location.

“True, but I don’t have to be happy about you getting drunk on my watch,” Steve replied, placing the bag on the table and dropping onto the couch next to Bucky, close enough their knees touched.

Bucky felt this new source of heat spread from the point of contact and almost shivered, having to make an effort of remaining still. “I ain’t getting drunk, just had a single glass, jeez. Needed some courage.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and started to rummage through the duffel bag, pulling out a chocolate bar. “Courage?” he asked placing it on the table —a bribe he knew Bucky was too weak to refuse.

The chocolate was distracting, but it wasn’t going to disappear. Steve was weird like that, could ignore a perfectly good treat for days. Bucky would have plenty of time to deal with it later, but for now his friend gave him too good of an opening to pass.

“Yeah.” He moved closer to Steve, climbing to straddle his lap and pressing their chests together, mindful of the bruises which still stung under pressure.

He made up his mind, he was going to do this, because if he didn’t, he worried Helmut was going to beat him to it. It wasn’t jealousy, not exactly. He simply knew what the young baron’s game was, he’d dealt with him enough times. Helmut was using Steve, plain and simple, and had no other interest in him.

There was a pleased expression on Steve’s face and he smiled. “You sure you can think clearly now?” he asked, placing his hands on Bucky’s hips, fingers digging gently into the muscle under the loose fabric of oversized pants.

And, oh, it felt nice. So good, Bucky couldn’t hold back the groan escaping him, his hips rolling against Steve. “I’ve been thinking about this since you left,” he whispered, leaning to Steve’s ear, then swiping his tongue against its shell, making Steve gasp pleasantly at the gesture.

He wasn’t lying, he was thinking about it. He wasn’t fantasising, more calculating pros and cons, but Steve didn’t need to know that either.

“In this case, I have no objection,” his friend chuckled, his head rolling into the couch cushion behind his back, honest happiness in his expression making Bucky forget every reason for starting this.

Bucky didn’t like men, a thought about doing it with any other guy didn’t appeal to him, but Steve was Steve, and it made this different. The way he was reacting, so honestly, as they were moving against each other, the little sounds he made as Bucky started to cover his neck with open-mouthed kisses, was only reaffirming Bucky’s intentions.

He smelled so good, too, and it was making Bucky dizzier than any wine could. There was a tinge of military issue deodorant mixing with the more bitter scent of his skin and old, brown laundry soap. Bucky could smell it all as he was unbuttoning Steve’s shirt, his lips traveling down his unreasonably broad chest.

He captured the small bud of Steve’s nipple between his lips, grazing it gently with his teeth, and Steve shuddered, a low moan tearing from his lips, and the sound of it made Bucky lose his grip with reality altogether. 

God, he wanted Steve. He’d wanted him when he was sixteen, and almost a hundred years seemed to do nothing to suppress this desire, only hid it behind reasons and attachments to other people. 

Caressing his chest for a few moments longer, fascinated by the unfamiliar shape of it, Bucky started to slide down the couch. He did it slow, making sure Steve was watching him as he settled between his legs, that he understood where this was going. Watching it, Steve’s eyes went a little wider, his mouth opened soundlessly.

Now, if only enthusiasm could substitute for experience. Bucky felt nervous as he unzipped Steve’s pants and started to pull them down. “Shit, is there anything on you  _ that isn’t big _ ?” he muttered, his face burning molten as Steve’s erection sprung free mere inches away.

Bucky had seen him naked, he’d paid attention to this particular part of him specifically, but his friend had never been aroused in front of him before. Or this close. He wasn’t big to the point of it being intimidating, but it was impressive.

“My temper?” Steve offered, making Bucky almost laugh, because that was true.

The easy familiarity of their banter relaxed Bucky. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward, both of them shivering the moment his lips wrapped around Steve’s erection.

Immediately, he was almost overwhelmed with sensations. Steve’s strong, musky smell hit his nostrils, and it was so unlike the slightly sweeter smell of a woman, Bucky found himself whimpering in a strange sort of excitement. It was hot, too, and the skin was soft against his tongue, tender. Precome was gathering at the tip of his cock, and was a little bitter but not unpleasant.

His tongue passed over the underside of the head, making Steve moan again, and Bucky started to cautiously move, trying to copy all the things that he liked to have done to him. He started with a slow, almost agonizing pace, picking up speed.

And then Steve’s hands landed on his head, stopping his movements completely, holding him in place. “Tap me on the hip if it’s too much, or you want me to stop, okay?” he said, his voice so low with arousal it was almost unrecognizable.

Confused, Bucky looked up, questioning. Steve answered with a slow thrust of his hips, sliding into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky could do nothing, his head held in an iron grip. It was impossible to pull away even if he tried, and once again, instead of terrifying him, it only added to his arousal. 

Somehow, Bucky maneuvered into an angle where his neck wasn’t straining too much and closed his eyes, bracing himself.

The way Steve had phrased it, he almost expected him to be rough, to fuck his mouth with abandon, but it didn’t happen. Instead, Steve’s movements were shallow, careful, and he was never pushing too deep. His fingers were rubbing Bucky’s jaw in a reassuring manner, and all these things combined felt so good, Bucky couldn’t stop himself from reaching down and sliding his hand into own pants.

“Don’t,” Steve commanded him, making Bucky whimper at the order in his voice. “Keep your hands on my hips, I’ll take care of you later.”

And dammit, Bucky wanted to curse, to wish everything to go to hell, because he wanted to sate own desire. He wanted to chase the pleasure building in his groin, every inch of his body feeling like burning.

Still, he forced himself to hold the impulse, his hands returning to Steve’s lap, fingers digging into the muscular thighs so hard it would’ve left bruises on a regular person.

Except, Steve wasn’t a regular person, and instead of being discouraged by the discomfort, he shuddered, and Bucky felt his erection stiffen even further, his movements getting more sporadic.

“I’m gonna...” he groaned, his breath coming in short gasps. “I want to. In you mouth.”

If Bucky thought his face wasn’t able to get any hotter, he was wrong. He had no way of verbally replying, but he could tap Steve’s hip. He didn’t. One more thrust, than another, and a long, throaty moan burst out of Steve, his erection jerking against Bucky’s tongue, warm thick threads of come filling his mouth, some getting on his lips, rolling down his chin.

It tasted... Bucky couldn’t lie to himself, it was horrible, but the mere idea that it belonged to  _ Steve  _ almost sent him over the edge completely untouched. 

He swallowed as much of it as he could, collapsing against Steve’s lap the moment Steve let go of his head. He wanted to just stay there, catching his breath, but strong hands grabbed him around his chest, pulled him up, and Steve was kissing him again, deep and messy, almost filthy, smearing the leftovers of own release against both their lips.

“You okay?” he asked pulling away, cradling Bucky against his chest, one of his hands moving to Bucky’s head to comb the locks of his short hair.

“I swear, ‘m gonna punch you if you don’t make me come now,” Bucky groaned, feeling too hot, sweat gathering on his temples and rolling down the small of his back.

Steve said nothing, but his soundless chuckle vibrated through both their bodies. In one quick movement, he turned Bucky around, so now his back was pressed against Steve’s wider chest. Unceremoniously, he tore off the shirt Bucky was wearing, throwing it out of the way, so there was nothing between their skin.

One of his hands moved under Bucky’s waistband, sure fingers wrapping around his already aching member, while his lips landed on his now bare left shoulder.

It felt like a current of electricity ran down Bucky’s spine. He’d almost forgotten how it felt for his left arm to be touched, he wasn’t sure he’d ever known how it was to be kissed there, the skin under Steve’s lips not yet replaced with metal. He couldn’t help but moan from this simple contact and, most likely encouraged by this reaction, Steve only continued to pay attention to his shoulder.

It would’ve been embarrassing how fast Bucky came, if his mind was any clearer. Instead, as the last wave of pleasure dissipated, he slumped into Steve’s embrace, allowing himself to be held, feeling more safe in his friend’s strong arms that he had any right to be.

“So beautiful,” he heard Steve murmur against his back. “Mine. Forever.”

That simple phrase was what ruined it all, feeling like bucket of cold water that woke him up. It reminded Bucky that this wasn’t real, that the Steve he knew would never say something like that, never make a promise he couldn’t keep.

Their forever was going to be a short one.

“I’m not an object, Rogers.” He shook his head, ignoring how much the thought was already hurting him, and started to pull away.

“Never said you were,” Steve replied with a sigh. He didn’t stop Bucky from getting up, allowed him to move out of his reach, without even a sound of protest. “It’s pretty late, we should clean up and get some sleep. I brought you a toothbrush and tooth powder.’”

“Yeah, good idea,” Bucky agreed. Then, before he thought better of it, he asked, “Are you gonna sleep in the bed tonight?”

“Only if you want me to,” Steve replied.

“Yeah.” Bucky offered him a smile. In the end he could continue pretending just for a little longer. “I’d like that.”


	4. Chapter 4

It took Bucky a lot of effort to untangle himself from Steve’s embrace that night. Not because he was held so tightly, but because he really wanted to stay where he was, pressed against Steve’s big, solid form. He would’ve given so much for it to be just them, for Hydra to disappear, for the world to stop ending every other week.

None of it was going to happen, and he carefully pushed Steve’s arm out of his way. As he moved to get up, he heard him mumbling something in his sleep. For a moment Bucky thought he woke him up, but Steve just rolled over onto his stomach, his back rising and falling slowly as he breathed.

Picking up his clothes from all over the floor, Bucky made a quick job of dressing. When he was about ready to exit the bedroom, he spared Steve one last glance.

Moonlight was falling down the bed from the window, reflecting from his bare skin, painting it silver. It outlined sharply every muscle of his back, his arms. He looked good like this, relaxed, and Bucky felt his heart ache, understanding how soon he was going to lose it.

Pushing the thought away, Bucky climbed out of the window, landing onto soft, grassy ground surrounding the house.

It helped a little to find himself outside, the cool night air making him feel more alert. His mind switched to the mission completely, and he hoped his determination was going to be enough to do this all alone.

The metal door of the garage was a little noisy, but the bedroom was on the other side of the house, and he hoped he managed to be quiet. Unlike the door, the sound of the motorcycle’s engine was bound to wake Steve up, so he didn’t start it right away, walking it down the road for at least a mile first. That was why it took him almost an hour to reach the hangar again, and by that point it was almost three in the morning.

This late at night, there were almost no people around. It was a good thing, because if somebody was going to find him, he would have to kill them and make sure their bodies were properly disposed. He doubted he had any time for it.

Moving from one stack of boxes to another, he reached the entrance and peeked inside. He remembered well how a similar situation ended the last time, so when he entered the place now, he tried to be more careful. Making sure to avoid any metal crates, he kept an eye on the gates, so no one would sneak in to close them, cutting off his path of retreat.

It was very quiet inside. Light was coming from several electric lamps on the ceiling, but it was giving barely enough illumination to look around. At least, it didn’t seem like someone was expecting him this time.

Moving further in, Bucky reached the wall opposite from the entrance, where he’d previously seen a map with pinned locations. Many of them, he recognized. It was a vague memory from ages ago, but he was sure a lot of the flags were the allied forces’ encampments. A few of them were off, some Bucky hadn’t heard about, but it was a thorough map, and he could only guess how many infiltrators were supposed to work for Hydra to provide this information.

Or, maybe, it was just one, and Bucky left him soundly asleep in the little cottage they shared.

A bureau table stood under the map, and going through the rosters and inventory left on it, Bucky noted something to be off. Helmut had a lot of resources, but looking at the records, Bucky was certain there wasn’t enough droids to send to every location on the map.

He frowned reading the papers again, trying to understand why numbers on them were so much smaller than what he saw around. Unless, of course, he saw it all incorrectly.

It was a risk, but he needed to know, so after locating a crowbar, he moved to the closest stack of wooden crates, slowly prying one of the lids open. There, he found exactly three irons and a doorknob.

“What the hell?” he hissed in confusion. Closing the crate again, he checked another one, then another, seeing a lot of them filled with various household items.

There was a good number of droids here, Bucky knew it, but most of it were just empty boxes posing as something valuable.

Was this entire Hydra operation just a distraction? But from what?

Bucky wanted to search for answers, but the time was running out, and he needed to return. If he heard it correctly, he had two more days to find out Helmut’s plan. Maybe, he could ask Kobik to check if there was another storage facility. Or, perhaps, he was going to get through to Steve by that time.

He almost reached the hangar’s exit, when he heard someone approaching from outside. Unable to leave, he had to turn back, hide behind one of the piles of crates. _“Why won’t you simply kill him?”_ an unfamiliar, but sleazy voice asked, the man it belonged to speaking German. _“You really afraid of hurting your friend so much?”_

 _“Rogers is not my friend. He’s never been one, never will be,”_ Helmut replied. _“And I’m planning to find out why I remember this otherwise.”_

The hangar gates opened wider, two men appearing inside. The one beside Helmut, Bucky had never seen before. He was, however, dressed in a uniform with a Hydra sigil on his armband, which told him enough.

 _“In the meantime, I need Steven,”_ Helmut continued, holding his hands behind his back as they walked at a casual pace. _“So, if he wants to keep his boytoy, I let him have it. I’ll find some other way to avenge my father, I might even go creative with it.”_

_“And will it change anything in the plan, sir?”_

_“Yes. Everything is still going to happen on the schedule, just the location had changed slightly.”_ Helmut chuckled, swiping his hand over the map, kicking all of the pins off. Then, as the surface of it became clear again, he pinned a single location with a red flag. _“We will march on Eisendorf.”_

***

Bucky had to spend a long time hiding in the hangar, waiting for Helmut to leave. By the time he’d escaped and reached his hidden motorcycle, the sun was already starting to rise.

Steve wasn’t really big on getting up unreasonably yearly, and could sleep away until late in the morning, so Bucky wasn’t worried about it too much. Yet, he also wanted to have a few hours of shut eye, and the longer he’d had to stay listening to Helmut idiotic speeches, the less time he had for it.

That was, of course, if he would even be able to sleep with the new piece of information he’d discovered.

Eisendorf. Bucky remembered the place well, he’d spent a few days there when he was nineteen, after being injured in battle. There, he met Gretchen, their contact in the German resistance, who had become the second person he’d ever fell in love with.

Helmut’s words about avenging his father echoed in Bucky’s head, and he gritted his teeth. It made sense for Helmut to go after people he cared about, it would both hurt Bucky and not anger Steve, at least not the indoctrinated version of him.

He wondered how Helmut found out about Gretchen, he told no-one about her except for... Steve, who now believed he and Helmut were best friends.

Bucky swore under his breath and twisted the handlebar grip ever harder, trying to get more speed out of the bike, even if it was already running at the maximum of its capability. Finally, he was able to see the familiar valley, smoke rising from the house’s chimney.

Turned out, he was wrong thinking he could return back before Steve woke up. As he approached the house, he spotted his familiar figure standing on a porch, arms crossed over his chest, and a stern look on his face.

“James, where have you been?” he asked almost angrily. He used Bucky’s given name, which he was doing only when extremely serious, or really pissed.

“Went for a walk,” Bucky replied without skipping a beat.

“With the motorcycle?”

“It looked all dusty in the garage, no-one’s been taking it for a spin in ages.” He shrugged, knowing for a fact Steve didn’t believe a single word coming out of his mouth. He knew he needed to stop and tell Steve the truth, maybe even beg him to help — even if for him Gretchen was a part of ancient history, and he couldn’t even recollect what she looked like, he still couldn’t allow her to die because of him.

“I swear, sometimes I still want to bend you over my knee I spank you till you backside is raw,” Steve said.

And that had a bit of a different effect on Bucky than he thought Steve intended. His face burned hot as he imagined it, something in his loins twisting in a manner that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Steve had a very heavy hand.

His struggle was likely written on his face, because Steve’s own eyes widened, his face flushing. He watched Bucky sternly for a moment, then shook his head. “Get inside, let’s have breakfast, then we’ll talk more about your behavior,” he said flatly, starting to turn around.

“Yeah, totally not a sign of an abusive relationship,” Bucky muttered rolling his eyes.

Steve turned sharply, his voice raising as he spoke. “Abusive? I have no idea how to get it through your thick skull, that if Helmut catches you, he _will_ kill you. This time, I won’t be able to help. I’m sorry for trying to care!”

“Well that’s too bad, cause I do need your help!” Bucky snapped, louder than he expected. It got Steve’s attention, yet he didn’t interrupt, allowing Bucky to continue. “I have no idea what your previous plan was, but now Helmut is about to march on Eisendorf. And I’m sure that has nothing to do with Hydra.”

“Eisendorf?” Steve repeated thoughtfully. It was obvious he didn’t recognize the name immediately, but as he did, a frown appeared on his face. “Our current mission is too important to divert resources.”

“Steve, please,” Bucky shook his head, taking a step closer to the porch, to him. “I heard him say it. I don’t know what kind of memories you have about the guy, but he’s playing you, too.”

“He wouldn’t. He’s my best friend, we grew up on the same street. He kept getting me out of trouble, protecting me.”

“Grew up together? Didn’t you say you were raised in the Whitehall mansion?”

Steve opened his mouth and closed it again without saying a word, his expression turning thoughtful.

Bucky’s own eyes went a little wider as remembered something. He heard this story before from Steve. About Arnie, a boy who lived in the same neighborhood as him. It seemed two memories, the real one and the one Kobik created, were mixing in Steve’s head, and Bucky wondered if he could somehow use it.

“Best friend? And what exactly do you remember about him? Do you remember hanging out with him? All the time?”

“Let’s drop it and go inside. I need to think.”

Bucky couldn’t allow them to stop now, so he pushed, feeling his gamble was about to pay off. “Please talk to me about it. I swear I’ll do whatever you need me to after that. God, I’ll go kiss Red Skull on the cheek.”

Steve huffed in exasperation. “No, not all the time, but often enough. Sometimes his family invited me over.“

“Invited you for dinners? What about Christmas? You have any memories of that?”

“Buck, I’ve never celebrated Christmas with him, because his family celebrated Han—“ and then he stopped talking altogether, looking completely confused now.

“They celebrated Hanukkah? Blue blood Nazi barons?”

Silence fell between them. The wind on the hill was stronger than in the valley even while it was surrounded by the forest, and the morning was cold. Without moving around, Bucky was almost shivering, yet he could still feel sweat rolling down the small of his back as he watched his friend think, one emotion on his face replacing the other.

“Go get the bike into the garage and come inside,” Steve said finally, calmly this time and a little bit softer. “I promise I will look into this.”

Bucky nodded. It wasn’t an ideal course of actions, because everything in him was screaming to act now, but he’d seen enough doubt in Steve’s eyes. It meant the fight wasn’t lost.

There was one more thing Bucky knew he could seal this deal with. It was a little low and manipulative, and for many people it would’ve even worked. Hell, Natasha would’ve probably kicked his ass if he tried it on her, but he sure had been on a receiving end of it from time to time.

Quickly dropping the bike in the shack outside the house, he followed Steve inside, where he wrapped his arms around his unreasonably wide waist and pressed his lips into his, kissing him deep and slow.

His chest still stung, but it was dull now, manageable, and Bucky could even ignore the pain. He could allow Steve to hold him tight as he responded to the kiss almost instantly, his tongue pushing inside Bucky’s mouth like it belonged there. And hell, maybe in some happier universe, where Bucky wasn’t an idiot and went for what he wanted back when he’d really been twenty, it did.

“Let me cook something, and maybe both of us could get some more sleep,” Steve proposed pulling away, every last trace of anger gone from his expression.

“Don’t tell me you woke up at the crack of dawn because you got hungry,” Bucky rolled his eyes, receiving only a shrug in response.

***

Watching Steve cook was a challenge on its own.

Bucky was sure they hadn’t had any sausage and tomatoes last night, yet now they mysteriously appeared in the fridge, most likely coming from the same bag as his chocolate bar. It should’ve been easy to just fry it together in a pan, then add some eggs, but ten minutes into the preparation, Bucky started to smell something burning.

Of course, Steve wasn’t completely helpless, and he’d been managing to cook for himself before they met, but he was also capable of eating anything, no matter how bad it tasted. And he needed a lot of food to keep up with his metabolism.

Bucky wanted to take over, to tell his friend to go sit down, but Steve was obviously doing all of the work out of some sort of nesting compultion. So, if he wanted to treat Bucky like some sort of a trophy lover, Bucky was going to allow it.

They ate in silence that could’ve been awkward if Bucky decided to think about it that way. From time to time, he was glancing up at Steve, watching his expression.

His friend was quiet, but not the same way as at the beginning. It wasn’t cold calm in his eyes, but rather tiredness, uncertainty.

Bucky hoped he was thinking about Helmut, and about his memories that didn’t make sense. He contemplated if he needed to try starting a conversation again, but decided against it. He wanted to give Steve a little space, sit on it for a while longer.

After the meal, which Bucky had difficulties calling a breakfast, because he was going to bed right after, he saw Steve getting cozy on the couch. “Um, you’re gonna sleep here again?” he asked, trying to sound upset about the idea. It wasn't difficult, considering he didn’t really need to pretend all that much.

“I’m still mad at you.” Steve shrugged, trying to settle his shoulders on the cushions that was way to narrow for his frame.

It made Bucky want to feel sorry. He also suspected it was exactly what Steve hoped for, and decided not to fall for such an obvious set up. ”As you wish.” He shrugged. “Sleep well.”

***

The sun was up completely when Bucky climbed under the blanket. He didn’t look at the clock, but suspected it was about eight in the morning. The bed was still too soft and too big for one, but it now smelt of Steve, and he allowed himself to enjoy it.

Yet, no matter how tired Bucky was, no matter how long he laid there with his eyes closed, sleep was avoiding him. His mind was too noisy with thoughts, and his head felt like an overblown balloon.

He pondered about running off again, about just going after Helmut on his own. Then again, if Bucky succeeded, if he’d kill him, it was only going to make things worse, cement Steve’s believe in Hydra and its cause.

No, the correct course of action was to stay here, get more rest, finish healing, because he had a feeling every last bit of strength was going to be required from him at the end.

Groaning quietly, Bucky tried to will his mind to quiet, but it was not the only thing distracting him. Every part of his body was hyper aware of his surroundings. He felt too hot and too cold at the same time, and the most comfortable for the time period blankets felt too scratchy against his skin.

“You ok?” came a voice, the door to the bedroom opening with a tiniest of creaks. “You keep tossing and turning, I came to see if you had a nightmare.”

“No,” Bucky answered. “I don’t. Just can’t sleep.”

Steve entered the room fully, looking at him closely, as if pondering about something. Still, he remained silent.

“Do you want to give me a hand?” Bucky asked, deciding to try his luck, turning to lay on his back, seemingly staring nowhere else but the ceiling, yet keeping his friend in the field of his vision. “Heard physical excursion might help in situations like that.”

“You want me to send you jogging around the hill?” Steve raised an eyebrow, and there was just enough amusement in his voice Bucky had no doubt he knew what he was asked for. “Take off your shirt,” he added in the end, too softly for it to be an order, but stricter than a simple request.

Bucky inhaled sharply and reached for the hem of his undershirt, pulling it off his body in a single smooth motion, dropping it onto the floor. He didn’t see where it landed, his eyes glued to Steve, who was now also starting to undress, baring his chest and shoulders for Bucky to see. And, oh, Bucky _was_ looking, shamelessly, trying to memorize every curve of his muscles, the way they rolled under his skin as he moved.

“Does it still hurt?” Steve asked nodding vaguely in Bucky’s direction.

It took a second to realize what he meant, and Bucky forced himself to glance down his chest, where blue bruises were only now starting to fade. “A little, but it’s fine,” he replied honestly.

Steve nodded, his eyes shamelessly traveling up and down Bucky’s form, making him shiver, start to get hard from anticipation alone. “Lay down, touch yourself,” Steve ordered, and this time there was barely anything  soft about it.

This was so damn weird. Bucky knew he shouldn’t get aroused by it, shouldn’t feel as excited as he did, but he couldn’t help it. Locking his eyes with Steve, he descended onto the pillows and ran his palms down his chest, careful around his tender bruises. He was going slow, trying his best to put up a show, and it was working magic, because Steve was watching him with almost open mouth, his pupils blown.

“Your nipples, too,” Steve directed as he was unbuckling his cargo pants and pulling them down his legs. He wore simple, white boxers underneath, and their front was noticeably tinted, which made Bucky’s mouth water as he remembered how it felt to suck him off.

“Are you always like this in bed?” he asked licking his lips and following Steve’s instructions. His fingers came to rub against the small buds on his chest, and he hissed quietly at the sensation, feeling more blood rushing to his groin.

“I don’t think so...” Steve shrugged walking towards the bed, taking a sit next to him. “I’ve never done this before,” he added as a matter of fact, presenting it as if it was completely unimportant, and not like something that would almost tear Bucky into pieces from inside.

He stopped and stared at Steve, feeling like a complete moron now, realizing if they were going to continue this, he was going to take his friend’s virginity — or had already taken it, depending what exactly constituted.

Was it going to mean something? Or was it really just a mean of accomplishing a goal for both of them?

“Are you still with me? Or are you disappointed in my lack of experience?” Steve asked meanwhile.

Bucky slowly shook his head, realizing there was as much exhilaration at the idea of being Steve’s first as guilt. More even. That was why, against his better judgement, he reached out and pulled Steve to himself.

He was well aware he had no chance of actually moving him from the spot if Steve didn’t want to, but he went willingly. “Just shut up and kiss me,” Bucky muttered pressing their lips together.

A chuckle was the only response from Steve as he climbed onto the bed completely, hovering over Bucky’s smaller form. His presence was almost overwhelming, but not enough at the same time, and Bucky tugged him even closer, his hips rolling forward, against Steve’s.

The sensation of their erections touching was electrifying even through two layers of cotton. Bucky moaned into Steve’s mouth unashamed of how filthy it sounded, spreading his legs further apart to free more space.

“You’ve got rubbers, right? Slick?” he asked piling away just enough to speak, his hands running down the Steve’s spine.

“I was thinking about taking this slower.”

“And I was thinking about sitting on your dick,” Bucky replied completely unabashed. There was a lie in his statement somewhere, because if he was completely honest, the idea terrified him. Not only he’d never put anything into himself before, Steve was pretty impressive in size. Strangely, both of these things also excited him, and it was a weird combination of feelings.

Steve groaned. “Where did you even learn to speak like that?”

Bucky almost said from watching porno movies on the internet, but it hasn’t been yet invented, so he only shrugged. “Are we going to try figuring it out, or are we actually going to continue what we started?” he asked rolling his hips a again.

Steve trembled at the movement and bit his lip. Then he moved fast, reaching for the medical kit that he’d been using on Bucky two nights ago and pulling out a pack of condoms and a bottle of vaseline. “Turn around to your hands and knees. Pull your underwear down,” he commanded again.

Bucky shivered, feeling himself even more nervous than before, but he did as he was told. “Again with your dominant shtick?” He breathed into the pillow that was now pressed against his cheek.

Pulling his boxers off was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. He felt so exposed like this, vulnerable, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the physical position or his own surprise about how much he trusted Steve, how far he was willing to go.

“I’m not doing anything you don’t want or like,” Steve replied, and it was the truth, a part of Bucky loved this a bit too much. “We can try different things next time. I’m not against changing umm... roles.”

Bucky blinked, his mind trying to wrap itself around this information. He wasn’t sure on what he was supposed to be concentrating, on the fact Steve mentioned next time, or the image of his friend spread beneath him, sweaty, panting, Bucky thrusting into him as hard as he wanted, knowing he couldn’t hurt him.

Then, he couldn’t concentrate on anything, because he felt fingers spreading him apart and... It took Bucky a moment to note it were Steve’s slightly stubbled cheeks now pressed to his behind, warm, wet tongue pushing against him. The realization made him gasp, his entire body trembling almost violently.

Bucky didn’t expect it, but it felt amazing, so very personal, and the last bit of doubt was gone now, replaced by pure want. There were lips against him, a hint of teeth, and he had no idea he was so sensitive down there, but here he was, moaning into the pillow, pleading for more without any concern for modesty.

And he got it, too, because the next moment there were fingers, touching him, pushing inside, making every system in his body short circuit, everything else but Steve and his touch disappearing.

He wasn’t sure how long they spent like this, Steve taking his time preparing him. At some point, there was a hint of pain, and if Bucky was still capable of counting to three correctly, he thought it was the exact amount of fingers that was inside him now. And Steve’s fingers were proportional to his body, so it felt like a lot. Really a lot.

Then Steve retreated, and Bucky heard him fumble with fabric, with condom wrapper behind him. “Buck?” he called, but Bucky couldn’t reply, only murmur something incoherent, his knees shaking, every muscle of his legs starting to strain from exertion.

Steve called again, and this time Bucky felt himself being lifted from the bed, with so much ease, as if he was weightless. Turning him around, Steve pulled him closer, until Bucky was straddling his hips, the tip of Steve’s erection pressing against his rear.

Steve was looking at him with such awe in his eyes no real Hydra agent would’ve ever been able to muster. “You still sure about this?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Rogers,” Bucky groaned before leaning in, kissing him again to stop him from speaking. At the same time, he began descending down, feeling the tip of Steve’s erection sliding in.

It wasn’t the most pleasurable experience, but it wasn’t bad either. There was a little bit of burn, uncomfortableness, but a mere idea about this being Steve was making Bucky lightheaded, almost dizzy, and just a whole lot happy.

When they were half-way in, Bucky began thinking Steve might split him in half if they continued. Yet, now there was so much pressure against his prostate that even a slightest of movements felt like it was about to make him come.

“Aw, damn,” he exhaled against Steve’s lips, and heard him chuckle in response, his embrace tightening around Bucky.

They stopped moving and stayed like that for a while. Bucky could feel Steve tense under him, putting an effort in remaining still. “Hey,” he whispered tenderly, as his arms slid to Bucky’s hips, getting a hold of him. Slowly, carefully, he started to lift Bucky up, push him down, almost with no effort.

This was strange, unlike anything Bucky had ever experienced. It was as if an electric current was running under his skin, that now seemed too tight for his body. Time lost any meaning, and Bucky felt like floating outside of everything. Like there was no-one else in the world but the two of them, and they could spend forever in each other’s arms.

Bucky’s hips began moving on their own accord, meeting Steve’s every thrust. He realized that, somewhere along the way, he was able to fit all of Steve inside, without as much as a pinch of pain.

Steve picked up his pace, his grunts becoming louder, mixing with the sound of Bucky’s name. “I’m close,” he said onto his ear and it sent shivers down Bucky’s spine.

He wanted so badly to feel it, Steve shuddering against him, spilling inside him, even if he was wearing the dumb condom which they didn’t need in the first place.

“Please, Steve, please,” he asked, clenching to him tighter.

Steve’s movement was quick, fluent as he pushed both of them until Bucky’s back hit the covers. Then he started to thrust with abandon, his mouth coming to kiss every part of Bucky’s body he could reach, lips burning hot against his skin.

It was as much as Bucky could take. Without even needing to touch himself, he was coming, too, his entire body trembling at the strength of his orgasm. Through it, he could hear Steve shouting his name and his hips stilled, his member pulsing against Bucky’s prostate, prolonging his enjoyment.

Steve slumped over him, and Bucky felt so blissful, he didn’t even mind the weight. Only after both of them caught their breaths, he pulled out and rolled to lay beside Bucky, leaving only his arm to rest across his chest.  

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” Bucky chuckled, enjoying the way his every muscle was buzzing pleasantly. “Cause that was amazing.”

Steve mumbled something he couldn’t hear, then kissed him on the shoulder again, tearing a soft gasp out of Bucky’s lips. “I said, I did it on my own earlier,” he confessed quietly. “Couldn’t stop thinking about last night, but didn’t want to assume you’d want it again. It would've ended really embarrassing for me otherwise.”

It was Bucky’s time to chuckle now. “That was really quiet of you.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you knew a thing or two about being discreet when you shared tight quarters with a bunch of other—” He stopped talking, stilling completely, and when Bucky turned to look at him, he saw a mix of emotions reflecting in his expression: concern, confusion, guilt, and it made Bucky wonder what he was thinking about. Then Steve pulled away completely and stood up from the bed.

“Um, are you still too mad to stay with me here?” Bucky asked, a little concerned.

“Just going to bring a towel to clean us,” Steve replied, a little colder than Bucky would’ve preferred.

The mood was ruined now by a single thought going in a wrong direction. Bucky tried his best not to take it personally, because he understood what happened and what Steve was going through.

It wasn’t a easy feat, but at least the view on Steve walking away was a good one.

***

Bucky couldn’t remember if Steve ever got back to bed, but when he woke up the next time, he was still alone. He noted that the mess on his stomach was gone, and his shirt and boxers were now carefully folded on a chair.

As he stretched, he noted there was still a tug of discomfort from his chest. He also felt quite sore someplace else, but that almost sent him into another bout of arousal. He managed to restrain the reaction, but it  was a little bit more difficult than he expected — a courtesy of his body being twenty.

It was an early evening, the sun still high in zenith, and the house wasn’t too cold, so Bucky skipped dressing. They were alone here, and after last night, there wasn’t _any_ part of Bucky Steve hadn’t seen, so he could stoll around the house buttnaked if he wanted to.

Steve wasn’t in the kitchen, neither was he in the bathroom, or the shack outside. There was a note, however, hanging on the refrigerator. The first line of it stated there were bologna sandwiches inside. It made Bucky pause reading and open the fridge, finding several sandwiches wrapped in white paper.

Unwrapping one and taking a generous bite, Bucky continued to read the note.

_“I have attempted to contact my friend and found out the timetable of the operation has been moved. Whatever happens, I give you my word, I will do everything in my power to protect your former lover and relocate her and her father if needed.”_

There were several more words at the end, but they were crossed out so thoroughly, Bucky had no chance of discerning them, and it was signed with only Steve’s first name.

He read through it once, twice, and felt his heart stopping. Oh god, what Steve was doing?


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky opened every drawer in the house in an attempt to find something he could use as a weapon. There was nothing but several kitchen knives, each unbalanced badly, which made them unusable for throwing. Still, it was better than nothing, so the knives went under his belt.

His search uncovered something else, however — his uniform, clean and carefully folded on one of the shelves in the bathroom. Looking at it from the perspective of his future self, he realized it was a rather silly design, with its red tights, and booty shorts. But in the end, his uniform was as much of a symbol as Steve’s. If his friend was going to spoil his by fighting on the wrong side, it was only appropriate that he was going to do the opposite, and so he put it on.

The bike was back in the shack, but now its tank was almost empty. Still, even if he had plenty of fuel, he doubted his ability to get to Eisendorf in time on any ground-based mode of transportation.

“Kobik!” Bucky called out as loud as he could, hoping she could hear him, “Kobik, please, come here!”

He was already leaving the house, realizing he could do nothing on his own. Kobik was his only chance of reaching the town in time. He only hoped she would hear him out, and he would have enough strength to fight, even if against his best friend, his lover. 

It wasn’t long before she appeared next to him, looking tired, sleepy, even if it wasn’t all that late in the evening. “Yes-yes, Bucky-ducky?” She yawned, rubbing her eyes.

“I need to find Steve,” Bucky pleaded.

“Oh, are you  _ now _ playing hide and seek?” she perked up, much more interested in the situation than before.

“No, we don’t!” Bucky snapped and instantly regretted it, because Kobik flinched away from him. “No, we don’t,” he repeated quieter, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I have to tell this to you. I tried, tried so hard to protect you, to give you time to be a child, because you deserve it, because no kid should be used to help others kill before they can even properly understand what they are doing.” Something clenched hard in Bucky’s chest and he had to take several deep breaths. “And that is why I hate asking this of you, but I need your help.”

Kobik was looking at him surprised the entire time, but as he mentioned help, she became visibly excited. “I would love helping you!” she said enthusiastically.

Bucky stepped closer to her, kneeling down to be on the same level, look her in the eyes. “I need you to get Steve’s memories back, I need to stop Helmut from destroying Eisendorf.”

“I can’t do that,” she pouted, crossing her arms. “Our plan wouldn’t work then, and Mister Skull would be upset.”

Silence hung between them and Bucky nodded once. “Then you can return to him and I’ll do it on my own,” he said, knowing it was a lie, something out of the reach of his abilities.

“No you won’t!” Kobik yelled, stomping her small foot. ”You need to return, too!”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll die, you silly!”

“I will,” Bucky confirmed with a nod. “And I will do it gladly if it’s for what I believe in.”

Anger disappeared from her face, and Bucky saw tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She breathed once, twice, then her cooler composure broke. “Don’t die, please, I don’t want you to die,” she hiccuped, starting to cry.

Bucky had never asked for a prove that she cared about him, he would’ve tried protecting her nonetheless. Still, it was a nice thing to know. It also meant not everything was lost.

Reaching out, he placed his hand on her shoulder, offering her a gentle, reassuring smile. “You can imagine the pain of losing somebody, or it wouldn’t upset you so much. But in that village, there are other little girls and boys that are just like you.”

“Just like me?”

“Yes, just like you,” Bucky nodded. “Perhaps, they don’t have powers, but they have their Buckies and their Mellissas and their Steves. And if Helmut is going to attack that village they will lose them, and they won’t be able to ever see them again. And that’s what evil is, that’s why I can’t let it happen.”

Bucky’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he was sure Kobik could hear it. He had no idea if he could get through to her, but now he also understood he couldn’t give up even if she refused. Even if he had to fight through an army of Hydra troops, hijack an airplane, he would attempt to get to Eisendorf, would try stopping Helmut from killing innocent people.

Tears rolled down Kobik’s cheeks, her face turning redder. “Bucky-boo,” she called trying to wipe them with her hands. “Bucky,” she repeated, and then she was on him, her hands wrapping around his neck as she started to weep out loud.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, embracing her. “I’m so sorry I failed you like that. If I only was a better—” he paused, unsure what he could say. A better guardian? Friend? Father?

“No, silly,” she shook her head against his shoulder. “No... I...”

“I can’t make you change everything back,” Bucky continued rubbing her hair. “Even if I had a way, I wouldn’t want to force you, it’s not right. But I’m asking you. Please help me, because if you won’t...” he had pause to take a deep breath, fighting his own tears now. “...I will lose Steve forever.”

He didn’t notice it at first, not until everything around sunk into cool blue glow of her powers. Light from her body was so bright, Bucky had to squint his eyes. Next moment they stood before a different mountain, the forest around them changing from green deciduous trees to mostly pines and firs, a rocky trek running up the hill towards ruins of an ancient castle.

The air felt even cooler here, and Bucky could practically smell snow. It was darker, too, almost sunset. The sky was blanketed in heavy, gray clouds, tiny cold raindrops falling down, feeling like needle pricks against his skin. 

Eisendorf was on another side of him, so close now, he could see lights coming from the windows of the nearby houses. A dog was barking somewhere further in, and a really delicious smell of something baked was reaching his nostrils.

Bucky sighed relieved realizing they weren’t too late. Then, he took Kobik’s hand starting to pull her towards the town.

They only managed to make several steps in, when she stopped in her tracks, and it was so sudden, Bucky almost tripped and fell flat on his rear. “I can’t,” she said quietly, and there was suddenly fear in her voice. “I can’t go there!”

Bucky turned to look at her in surprise and saw her more frightened than ever before. “Kobik, what’s the matter?” he asked concerned.

“I can’t go in there! I can’t be  _ near it! _ ” she repeated, accenting the last part, as if Bucky was supposed to know what she was talking about. Then she squinted her eyes and took a step away either from Bucky, or from the town, her skin starting to glow again.

He tried to reach out, but before he could touch her, she was gone in a flash of bright light. “Dammit!” he yelled at the empty spot before him, unable to even start guessing what could've scared her so much.

He didn’t have time to think about it. He wasn’t sure how long it was going to take Helmut to get here, but knew there were ways to move from place to place quickly. Turning around, Bucky started to run towards one house where he knew he could find help.

The town of Eisendorf wasn’t big. Even if it were decades since he’d been here the last time, it felt vaguely familiar, so navigating around wasn’t a problem. If felt a little nostalgic to be here, run down a neatly paved road surrounded by houses with their facades made of natural stone. 

Just for a moment, Bucky felt as if his stay here really happened only a year prior.

When he reached the side entrance to the Zeller residence, he stopped, hand extended inch away from the door he thought about knocking on.

Should he really do it? Once, he’d promised to return to Gretchen after the war ended, now he was showing up at her doorstep knowing it was never going to happen.

In her future, she was supposed to be fine, supposed to move to the States and get married, have family that loved her. Bucky had already changed the past by simply being here, he couldn’t allow himself to risk altering it even further.

There was a part of him that cared about her still. That was why he closed his eyes, his arm dropping to his side. “Sorry,” he whispered, quiet enough he barely could hear his own voice. “For everything.”

He’d already started to walk away when he heard the door open. There was a gasp, followed by a soft sound of his own name, and it made everything inside him tremble. He turned his head to look and saw her surprised expression.

Bucky didn’t know what could’ve happened next, what he would’ve said or done if the painful reality didn’t come crashing down on both of them. A sound of something exploding rolled through the mountain range behind his back. Turning to look in the direction of it, Bucky saw black smoke rising from somewhere on the opposite edge of the town. 

Next followed cries of scared people that came from the same side of the town, and even more lights came to life in the buildings around.

“Get as many people to safety as you can, get them as far away as possible,” Bucky told Gretchen, before starting to run without waiting for her reply.

The previously empty streets were filling with people as the inhabitants of the town were coming out of their homes to see what was happening, still more confused and curious than anything else.

_ “Get out of the way, run!” _ Bucky started to yell in German, hoping it was in a good enough shape. Behind him, he could hear Gretchen already starting to order people around, most likely trying to organize groups of bystanders.

It only became worse from there. Another explosion tore the air, and all hell broke loose. Panic ensued on the streets, people starting to run into different directions, screams of terror filling Bucky’s ears.

It was really happening, Helmut was really leading his droids ready to destroy everything on its way in a name of revenge. This was not supposed to happen, no-one was supposed to come and bombard Eisendorf, because it was still standing in the twenty-first century. 

But every action had consequences, and this apparently was the consequence of him killing Heinrich Zemo, an act that he didn’t recall and at first thought to be something to celebrate. Instead, it was bringing more misery along the way.

Now Bucky had no backup, or plan, or weapons, and he was seriously considering going against an army of machines, Helmut himself and possibly — probably, most likely — an indoctrinated supersoldier with just a kitchen knife in his hand.

But he had to work with what he had, had to do his best no matter what kind of situation he faced. He needed it, partially to ease his guilt, but mostly because it was right, because that was what Steve had taught him, and that was what he decided to make of himself.

There was a way to stop this madness. It wasn’t really a good one, but it was the only one Bucky had, and so he started to run towards the approaching army.

***

It was the smell that hit him first. Painfully familiar, even if he was sure he would never be able to get used to it, never wanted to be used to it. Soot, blood and smoke mixing together into a horrific combination of odors, that was making him want to hurl out his stomach.

Several buildings on this side of the town were already destroyed, people living there most likely had no time to react to the attack in any way. A small squadron of droids was marching down the burning street, each holding an energy riffle. Above them, decorated with swastikas and Hydra logos, was flying a zeppelin, too advanced for the time period canons aiming at the village.

It was low enough Bucky could see both people standing at the bridge of the gondola. He could hear them too, but suspected it was only because both men’s voices were raised, both trying to talk over the surrounding noise and each other.

“This is unnecessary!” Steve said. He wore his Captain America uniform, held his shield, and Bucky honestly wanted to punch him for even trying to converse with Helmut after seeing what the young baron was doing.

“Unlike you, my dear friend, I can combine work and pleasure.” Helmut shrugged, looking completely disinterested.

There was a family running away from the robots, father holding a crying boy in his arms who couldn't have been older than three. One of the droids aimed a gun and—

“Stop it!” Steve yelled, and a flash of red, blue and white sliced the night air. His shield flew towards the droid and almost cut it in half before it could take the shot. Then it returned into the hand of its owner.

“What are you doing?” Helmut snapped at him.

“Trying to prevent you from making stupid decisions!”

Bucky ran towards them, stopping in the very middle of the street, raising his arms as if to block their way. “Helmut!” he yelled, attracting the baron’s attention.

Helmut glanced down and raised an eyebrow, yet he didn’t look particularly surprised. Steve, on the other hand, was staring at him in shock. His eyes went wider, and Bucky could swear there was nothing but fear in them.

“What are you doing here?” Steve demanded, obviously trying his best to hold his composure.

“Trying to stop this,” Bucky replied. His heart was pounding from fear and exertion, but he also tried to show neither of them. He didn’t want to die, he really didn’t, but he was ready do it to save the villagers.

There was a big part of him that clenched to a hope. He’d seen Steve noticing inconsistencies in his memories, already seen real Steve trying to push against the bonds of false identity. That part still believed in his friend and Captain America. “I’m here, Helmut. It’s me you want, so just leave these people alone.”

“Bucky, get out of here, now!” Steve tried again, angry this time, commanding.

Helmut only laughed, his expression running almost hysterical. “Oh, Bucky, you really think I’m here because of you?” He shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love to see every person you hold dear in your life slaughtered like pigs, because of what you did, but it’s not revenge that brought me here today.”

Bucky stared at him in confusion, trying to figure out what he meant, his hands dropping to his sides, his mouth opening on its own accord.

“Ah, to hell with it! If you want to die so much, that’s not my problem anymore.” Helmut groaned and waved his hand, the droids starting to march again, raising their weapons and taking an aim at the single man in front of them.

Bucky tried to jump to the side, but even his reflexes were not enough. He was too slow, unable to outrun blasts of energy thrown into his direction. Shutting his eyes, he prepared for a lot of pain.

A heavy shape dropped before him, strong but gentle hands wrapped around his body, pushing him out of the way. There was another blare, close enough Bucky’s ears began ringing. The world around sunk into a sort of thick, viscid version of itself, everything around slowing down.

The screams turned muffled, the tongues of fire from the burning buildings were reaching Bucky’s skin, making it too hot, uncomfortable. But all of it was in the background, because there was a figure raising above his overthrown to the ground form.

“Bucky?” Steve called his name, his voice the only focal point that Bucky could concentrate on. There was shock in Steve’s expression, fear, surprise. He was looking around as if he was lost, as if he just woke up in the middle of the battlefield and had no idea what he was doing here.

“So you decided to betray our cause!” Helmut yelled. “No matter. You’re not as valuable to us as you think. As soon as I collect what we came here for, nothing will be able to stop Hydra!”

“Slaughtering innocents was never our cause. It never will be,” Steve replied, offering Bucky a hand.

“As if  _ that _ is the real reason you’re turning on me!” Helmut snapped in disgust.

Despite his ears still ringing, Bucky felt overwhelmed with joy. He reached out to take Steve’s hand ready to welcome his best friend back. Before he could grab onto it, several droids jumped on them. Steve turned around, reflecting their attacks with his shield, and Bucky had nothing left to do but to roll to the side, into the rubble of a destroyed building.

Steve was taking out the droids one after another, but there were too many of them. Slowly, but surely he was losing his ground, taking occasional hits, strong enough they were making him grit his teeth.

There was no way they could win like this. Bucky was almost useless in the fight against mechanical opponents without his arm, but there were other things he could do.

Looking upwards, he saw the blip starting to pass over their heads, flying slowly towards the center of the village. Without even thinking, he jumped up, onto the half-destroyed shed, then onto the husk of a stone wall that used to be a two story tall house. Reaching the top of it, he found himself close enough to make the final leap, grab into the metal cross-beams that held the structural integrity of the zeppelin’s gondola.

“Bucky, no, don’t!” Steve yelled, but his voice was distant now, the wind blowing past Bucky’s ears as he climbed above the line of buildings and trees. “Don’t kill him, please!”

There was something in the request Bucky didn’t like. He knew, of course, Steve was only asking to show mercy because he believed in people deserving second chances, because he thought even the baddest of guys could be saved. This belief was the only reason Bucky was still alive now, but that was also a belief that one day could kill Steve.

Quietly, moving down the bulwark and towards the cockpit, he pulled out the kitchen knife out of his belt. He saw Helmut looking down on the destruction beneath then, his back turned to Bucky.

A step, another, and he was so close, Bucky was already starting to feel a familiar disconnection from his own self, emptiness replacing his emotions in preparation to take away somebody’s life. Steve’s last plea echoed in his head once again, but he ignored it. There was too much at stake, and too many people were dead or hurt to try to do it any differently.

Raising the knife over his head, Bucky was ready to swing. Yet, before he could do it, he saw Helmut turn, look him directly in the eyes. There should’ve been surprise there, but instead, the young baron was grinning like a madman. In the cacophony of other sounds, the gunshots were particularly loud, like thunderclaps next to his ear.

Bucky wanted to hum, wondering... 

It was the cold he felt first. Like if he laid on a field, in a white blanket of snow looking at the cloud-filled sky, at the snowflakes slowly descending onto his face. The white was endless, all consuming, and the quiet serenity of the landscape was deafening. Yet, it was peaceful, too.

A single flash of red came into the field of his vision, looking out of place here.  _ “Did I hit you too hard, my little star?”  _ a soft voice asked in Russian, a slight hint of amusement in it.  _ “I should go easier on you.” _

_ “What fun would be in it?” _

Bucky’s eyes flew open, and now horrible pain shot through his abdomen. There was blood dripping from his jacket, red droplets falling onto the metal floor of the gondola. There was blood in his mouth too, tasting acerbic on his tongue, unpleasant.

Helmut was looking at him with a smile, a puff of smoke still rising from the gun in his hand. Bucky had no way of defeating him now, the hand holding the knife was shaking too much for precision, and all that was left of his strength was not nearly enough.

He moved forwards still, saw Helmut bracing himself. Yet, instead of attacking the man, Bucky used his momentum to throw himself onto the steering wheel, spinning it enough to steer the zeppelin away from the village. Then he jammed it with the knife, sending electrical sparks fly into different direction.

“I’m taking you with me,” he announced through gritted teeth as the ship reeled to its side starting to turn.

A metal screech echoed through the gondola, then something shook hard enough to send both of them tumbling onto the ground. There was a sound of rocks falling beneath them, as they collided with another building, taking down its roof. Another mechanical chriek came from somewhere under Bucky, and he felt the zeppelin starting to lose the altitude.

He saw the flash of red again, Natasha’s smile. There  was no longer sadness in him from remembering it, because all he could think before he lost consciousness, was the warmth of Steve’s embrace.

_ “Huh, what do you know. I’ve fallen in love with you all over again,”  _ he hummed looking into the depth of his friend's eyes his subconscious conjured. And then everything was gone in a blaze of blue light.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 2**

Bucky woke up with a start. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, and he was gasping for air, unable to get enough of it into his lungs. For several long moments, he was completely disoriented, unable to figure out where he was.

Everything around was made of metal: walls, the ceiling above his head. It was as if he was stuffed into a container of some sort. Yet, the bedding under him was soft, comfortable, even if the sheets were soaked in sweat.

Taking several deep breaths, Bucky pushed himself upwards until he was sitting, his hand rising to push stray locks of hair off his face. It was long again, tangly from the sleep, and the touch of his metal hand felt refreshing against the heated skin of his face.

Long hair, metal hand, and an almost empty room he now recognized as his bunk at the Thunderbolts base. 

Was everything that happened only a dream? No, it couldn’t have been. It all felt so real, he could still feel the ghost of pain from Helmut shooting him. 

A little nervous, Bucky reached out for his bare stomach and chest, finding nothing but unbroken skin there. Yet, as he glanced down, he still could see where he was injured, even if it looked old enough, that even scars had faded.

Kobik must have pulled him out of danger before he died, and thinking about it now, it made sense. 

He needed to get up, to find her, but almost a nauseous wave of guilt and despair overwhelmed him. For a while he could do nothing but sit there looking at the floor under his feet. He’d survived, everything returned to normal, and yet he didn’t really feel like celebrating.

His phone was buzzing under his pillow and picking it up, he saw Steve’s caller ID, the man using a secure channel to contact him. Except, instead of a very generic picture of Captain America he dug out on the internet, there was an actual photo of Steve. One which Bucky couldn’t recollect taking.

In it, Steve looked casual, even too casual, dressed in an old t-shirt with faded design that was difficult to make out on a small screen. He was sitting on the couch, and the angle of the picture told Bucky whoever took it was occupying the spot besides him. Steve was smiling, too, and his expression was so soft, it made Bucky feel strangely lightheaded.

He stared at the picture for so long, that the call went to the voicemail. Steve didn’t record anything, just hung up, and Bucky noted he’d missed four of them by this point. Steve rarely was so insistent, so it was probably important. Bucky needed to answer, but he wasn’t ready to talk to Steve yet. Not after...

He almost trembled as memories of Steve’s touches flooded his head. “What a crazy few months,” he muttered to the empty room, before getting up from the bed and looking around for his pants. He found them not on the floor, where he left them, but hanging carefully from a chair. That surprised him a little, and he looked around.

Immediately, he noticed that his room was cleaner than the last time he’d seen it. Not that it had been a complete mess before, but it hadn’t been this spotless either.

Something was also off about it, as if someone came here while he slept and added things, like a few extra shelves, a new chair.

There was a small motorcycle model on his desk next to the Skrull ship that he’d built, a Harley-Davidson WLA 1940. He could easily recognize it, because Steve used to ride one a long time ago, cared about it as much as Bucky did about his rifles.

He picked it up, feeling rather giddy, because he’d totally get one himself if he saw it online or at a store. If it was a gift, someone knew him well. 

As he turned away from the desk, he noticed something he had no idea how he’d missed previously: his bed turned out to be the biggest change of all. This morning, it was no longer just a mattress laying on the floor, but had an actual frame. It was also a double bed now, which raised all sorts of red flags.

His line of work forced Bucky to be a light sleeper, able to wake up from even a smallest of noises. While he could believe he could sleep through someone cleaning his room because he was exhausted from recent experiences, there was no way they could’ve replaced his bed.

Finishing dressing quickly, Bucky hurried out to find answers.

The rest of the base didn’t look any different. Then again, it was a problem on its own, because the last time he’d been here, it was under attack, and he was almost killed by Helmut. Now everything was quiet, lights in the corridors dimmed, but it wasn’t empty. Sounds were coming from the kitchen, someone conversing lively.

As Bucky entered the room, he was greeted by a pleasant smell of coffee and a strange sight of Melissa and Kobik, working together at mixing ingredients in a large plastic bowl. The expressions on their faces were a ones of concentration, and Kobik even had her tongue sticking out, which made Bucky feel warmer on the inside despite his worries. On a table in the middle of the kitchen, in an almost a perfect row, stood... cosmic cubes?

They looked realistic, to the point he had to take a double take. Yet, on the closer examination, he noted them to jiggle slightly. “Um, are these made of jello?” he asked curiously.

Both of them looked up at the sound of his voice. “Bucky!” Kobik exclaimed, but then immediately looked away, as if scared or embarrassed.

“Uh, sure,” Melissa nodded with a shrug. Then she gave Bucky a look over. “Are you ok?” she asked.

Bucky couldn’t say he was, but he didn’t want to confirm her suspicions. Instead, he only shrugged, walked further into the kitchen and picked up one of the cubes, watching it jiggle even more ferociously in his hand. Taking a bite, he hummed in appreciation, discovering it tasted like berries, and not like blue Gatorade as he feared. “M’fine,” he replied.

Melissa nodded back at Kobik, who still barely moved and inch from her spot. “She asked me to help her make something for you. She thought you were going to be mad at her for something.”

Bucky shoved the rest of the treat into his mouth, gelatin melting on his tongue almost instantly. “Not mad, but we need to talk,” he replied finally. “Alone, if possible,” he added trying to sound as undemanding as he could.

Melissa raised an eyebrow, but didn’t seem offended by the request. “Great! That means you’re finishing making your own breakfast,” she said smirking. Placing the bowl with what looked to be pancake batter onto a countertop, she walked out of the kitchen.

Ok, maybe she seemed a little upset, but Bucky would have to deal with that later.

“Hey,” he called softly the moment he and Kobik were alone, kneeling before her.

The girl looked up again. For a second she stood there motionless, then she jumped at him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Buckaroo, I messed everything up!” She started to cry, her tiny shoulders shaking slightly, and Bucky brought his real hand to rub her back. “Mister Skull would be so upset at me now.”

“Hey, no you didn’t mess anything up. Skull wanted you to hurt other people, he wanted you to do very bad things,” Bucky reassured, embracing her tightly. “I’m proud of you for standing up to it.”

“You are?” she asked surprised, stopping to cry almost immediately.

“Yes, I’m very proud. You did good, little soldier. But I need you to tell me one more thing. Did you change the present too? Did you alter anything else?

“No, no I didn’t.” She shook her head. “Steve got his memories back, and I got you back. I guess bad Zemo isn’t here anymore, I’m not sure why it changed.”

Bucky bit his lower lip pondering if him defying Helmut in the past prevented the man from finding them now. A dozen of other questions filled his head, questions about the fate of Eisendorf, Gretchen, the changes in his room. “What exactly happened to Steve?” he asked instead, because, apparently, no matter what else was going on, his priorities kept circling back to one person. “You said he’s got his memories back, but it wasn’t you who did it, was it?”

Kobik shook her head. “He got them himself. Maybe it was because—“ She stopped talking, pressing her nose into Bucky’s real shoulder.

It would’ve been such a nice sentiment to think Bucky was the one reminding Steve, triggering the change, but he would be kidding himself. In the end, the magical power of love and hugs worked only so far.

“Was it because of what Helmut was after in that town? The same thing that scared you so much?”

Silence was his only answer.

“Kobik? What was in there?” Bucky tried again, putting a little bit of warning into his voice.

“Something that should never be found!” the girl exclaimed pulling away from him, her lips pouted. “I can never ever tell. Not even to you.”

“Kobik,” Bucky urged. Whatever was hidden in the village was connected to her, scared her. And it was powerful, enough to redo the girl’s memory replacement. “This isn’t a game.”

“It’s not!” she snapped, and it didn’t sound like a child’s displeasure, but as something she understood was important. Her skin started to glow faintly, her expression turning angrier, but it all stopped suddenly. “I’m so tired. Can I go to bed?” she asked, and before Bucky had time to answer, she slumped over his shoulder, her small body going completely limp.

It scared Bucky, and he was almost ready to run to medical bay calling for help. Then he realized she was not unconscious, but asleep.

Murmuring something incoherent, she snuggled further into his embrace, and Bucky had nothing else left to do but pick her up and carry her to her room. There, he carefully placed her onto the bed and covered her with a blanket.

For some time, he simply stood there, looking at her, one of the most powerful beings in the universe. Yet, as he watched her sleeping so peacefully, he could see nothing but a child who trusted people too much.

That was why he was going to let her rest as much as she needed, and any additional questions, no matter how important they were, were going to have to wait.

***

Kobik was waking up and falling asleep several more times that day. Bucky worried about her, but she reassured him that she wasn’t sick, but exhausted from spending too much of her powers in the last few days.

His general anxiety seemed to dwindle by the end of the evening. The present time he returned to was fine, no one was trying to kill them, Hydra hadn’t taken over the world. Their base was off the grid, so looking on the Internet for information wasn’t an option, but if something else was different, he was certain he could look into it at a later time.

It was a quiet evening, one which Bucky hoped to spend recuperating. He felt surprisingly fine physically, but his mental state was a different matter. If he allowed himself, he knew all of his guilt and dejection were going to resurface. And so he focused on keeping his mind blank, watching a pointless action flick with Erik in the main hall.

He didn’t feel like drinking alcohol, and it was a little too late for coffee, but he was able to dig out some tea in the kitchen. A steaming mug in his hands, he was lounging on one of the soft chairs Kobik had created while reconstructing the base.

It felt almost suspiciously peaceful, which made the interruption all more expected.

“Guys, there’s an inbound jet,” Paul poked his head into the hall from the adjacent lab.

Bucky was on his feet immediately, his hands reaching for the holster on his hip that he forgot wasn’t there, and his entire body went into a battle mode.

“Whoa-whoa, dude, relax,” Paul looked him up and down. “That’s Rogers’ plane, he identified himself.”

Bucky was honestly unsure how it was better, because if Steve knew where their base was, it meant Sharon knew, too, and Hill, and most definitely the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. Yet, as he looked around the room, he saw his team behaving like nothing out of ordinary was happening. In fact, they were the one looking at Bucky like he was insane.

They were all supposed to hate Steve.

“What bug bit you this time?” Karla asked, her feet propped on the small table next to the couch, a beer in her hand.

A strange suspicious settled in the pit of Bucky’s stomach. There were way more changes to this reality than he initially thought, and they weren’t only about the interior or his room, or strange pictures in Bucky’s phone.

He gulped, understanding he’d probably had to answer one of these calls he’d been receiving from Steve, or reply to his messages.

“And none of you are against him being here?” he asked carefully, trying not to seem like he was completely out of the loop.

Everyone exchanged confused glances, which told Bucky his attempt wasn’t completely successful. “That’s a weird timing to ask.” Erik raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I’m still unsure he’s not planning to send us all back to jail, but I took your word for it.”

“No, Bucky, no one here minds you two spending time together, or judges your, if that’s what you mean,” Melissa joined in.

Bucky forced himself not to groan in frustration, feeling his suspicion growing in size out of proportion. “Ok, and who is Steve to me, again?” he asked rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers, deciding to stop playing charades.

This time everyone stilled completely, staring at him in utter shock.

“Um.” Karla blinked. “He’s your boyfriend, duh?”


	7. Chapter 7

Walking down the corridor to meet Steve, Bucky hoped for the time to slow down. A small part of him wished for Kobik to be awake so she could make it reality, but the rest of his mind was quick to admonish him for the thought.

He wanted to fidget, like when he was a kid, back during his first several missions. He’d felt both eager and scared then, but didn’t want to show neither emotion, afraid of Steve’s judgment.

The worst part was that Bucky had no idea what to expect from his friend. From what he knew, this Steve also believed they were in a romantic relationship. To say the idea didn’t appeal to him after his trip to the past would’ve been a lie, but Bucky had no right using this situation to his advantage.

“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” he muttered under his breath, because the other side of this coin was telling Steve the truth, and possibly really hurting his feelings.

Bucky made his way to the base’s entrance almost at the same time the hangar door started to open from the other side. Steve appeared before him looking as if he was ready to go into combat, fully geared, his new shield strapped to his back.

“Sorry for dropping by, but you weren’t answering my calls, and it’s a matter of utmost urgency.” Was the first thing Steve said, barely even having time to fully enter the base.

“Uh, right,” Bucky replied with a nod. “Hello to you, too, I’m doing great, and how are you? Did you miss me?” And then, before he could even think about it, he added, “What a horrible boyfriend you are.”

Steve stared at him with a strange kind of horror, and there was just a little bit of flush on his skin to go with the frightened expression. “Yeah, I, uh... missed you,” he said, obviously trying not to stumble over words.

An audible sigh of relief escaped Bucky as Steve’s reaction told him more than enough. “Oh thank god, you know the reality got messed up, don’t you?”

Hearing it, Steve visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping. “Yeah, Buck.” He smiled tiredly. “And that’s why I’ve been calling you the whole day.”

They stood there for a moment in silence, as if both were trying to figure out what to do with the presented information.

Steve looked good though. He hadn’t changed much from the younger version of himself, still had the same small, warm smile that was reaching his eyes, same posture that made him look important, but not imposing. He got a little bit of wrinkles under his eyes, his jawline had become a little sharper, but, somehow, it only added to his attractiveness.

“Nice place you got here,” Steve said finally, looking around the plane metal walls of the empty corridor, like if he’d seen it for the first time.

Which made Bucky realize that he really did. “How did you find it?” he asked, gesturing his friend to follow him inside.

“In the encrypted messages that you sent me.” Steve shrugged. “Among... other things,” he added flushing just a tiniest bit redder, and it made Bucky ponder what else exactly he’d been sending to Steve over encrypted channels.

He thought he had a general idea.

Bucky led Steve through the base, making his damndest to avoid anyone. In any other circumstances, he would’ve loved to show Steve around, but it would look weird. Plus, even if in this reality Thunderbolts seemed surprisingly accepting of having Captain America visiting, there still seemed to be enough tension between them.

“Aright, what exactly happened on your side of things?”  Bucky inquired letting Steve into his room and closing the door behind them.

“Difficult to say,” Steve replied. He moved towards the only chair in the room and sat down, his elbow resting on Bucky’s desk. “I woke up at my bunk in the helicarrier, with some new memories about the past...” he paused, looking thoughtful. “And they felt like something that happened only recently. Someone messed with my head, made me believe I was Hydra.”

“You’re not. Not anymore, right Steve?” Bucky asked, almost pleadingly.

Steve’s look at him was a one of disbelief. “No Buck, I swear to you, I’m not Hydra,” he replied firmly. “And what about you? Do you have any recollection of it? You sneaking into Helmut’s hangar? The android army? Eisendorf?”

Either on purpose, or because he thought it was irrelevant to the current subject, Steve didn’t mention anything that happened in-between. Yet, the way he cast his eyes down, led Bucky to believe it happened in his version of events, too.

“Yeah Steve. It really happened.” He sighed plopping down onto his bed, rubbing his face and feeling suddenly tired. “All of it.”

Silence hung in the room, and Bucky didn’t even have a reserve to look at his friend, staring at his boots instead. He noted them to be slightly wet from walking in the snow outside, yet not enough to leave a puddle of water in the middle of his room.

“How did you manage it, to get your memories back, I mean?”

Steve exhaled, leaning further into the backrest of the chair, the piece of furniture squeaking slightly under the pressure. “Not sure,” he confessed. “It’s just... I saw these villagers die, saw you in danger, remembered all the inconsistencies you pointed out to me. Something snapped in me, I guess. Then again, sounds too easy to be true.”

Bucky finally forced himself to look up. “What was Helmut doing in Eisendorf? What he was searching for most likely had something to do with it.”

Steve suddenly looked smaller, which was a real feat for a man of his size. “I have no idea.”

“Really? You followed the guy blindly, without even trying to find out what he was planing? This is way unlike you, even if you were Hydra.”

“Buck,” Steve made an annoyed sound that was between a sigh and a groan, then rubbed his face. “I followed him there to find it out, maybe snatch whatever it was if I deemed it to be dangerous.” He frowned then, as if thinking about something, before his expression softened. “But I’m sure we could check S.H.I.E.L.D.’s archives at Triskelion, maybe find some information.”

“That would be a good start,” Bucky agreed. “You think both of us can safely go there?”

Steve grinned. “Pretty sure I can swing something.”

Bucky almost laughed at that. “Sure you could.”

“Guess, some things don’t change.”

The atmosphere between them calmed, and now Bucky was almost comfortable around his friend. It was a habit in the end, a routine too easy to slip into no matter what happened between them. That was why, broken heart or not, Bucky at least had no doubt he wasn’t going to lose his best friend.

“But a lot did change,” he said, because in the end Bucky was also great at ruining good things. On the other hand, it was something they needed to figure out, and smiling at each other half the night wasn’t going to fix anything.

“Actually, I had a little time to research,” Steve provided. “The history of this world was following our history pretty close. There were minor changes, I guess I’ve never gotten back together with Sharon. She’s married to someone now.”

Bucky bit his lip. “Shit, I’m sorry, Steve.” He could imagine, if he’d been still with Natasha, how painful it would’ve been to return into a reality and find her with somebody else. Then again if he’d still dated Natasha, he was sure he would’ve done a much better job of keeping his pants on. None of it might’ve happened.

Or, he would’ve returned back into a reality where Steve was still indoctrinated, and where Hydra took over the world. It was impossible to tell.

“There’s not much information about the two of us though,” Steve continued, and it made Bucky tense. Apparently, it was noticeable enough, and Steve hurried to add, “about how we ended up in the twenty-first century. I guess Zemo survived, and the drone plane happened, too.

“The history goes pretty much the same up until I found out you were the Winter Soldier. Then, I guess, we, uh... rekindled. At least I can imagine myself trying to do it, cause it’s not the kind of information I could find in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files.”

Bucky wondered how soon he’d returned to Steve after his memories were restored. He thought he would’ve still tried to avoid him, too embarrassed about the crimes he’d committed as the Winter Soldier. He would’ve still went to work for Fury, having no place else to turn to.

He imagined Steve doing everything to get him back. Then he imagined him dying after the Hero Registration Act passed. Bucky had been devastated by the news when they were just friends, he wondered how much worse for him it would’ve been if they were lovers.

“Yeah, you’re just that loyal.” He chuckled dryly.

Steve looked at him sharply, almost offended. “Please don’t tell me you think that in any reality I would date you just out of some sense of obligation.”

Bucky blinked staring at Steve in shock. He could still barely wrap his mind around the fact Steve was attracted to him enough to spend a night or two together. Finding out Steve actually didn’t mind having a long term relationship was simply beyond him.

“I’m just that damn irresistible.” Bucky smirked, because joking about things that terrified him was still a part of his protective reaction, something that no war, no Hydra, no time could have taken away.

Except Steve was one of the very few people who also knew that about him. He didn’t push the subject, but he looked at him somewhat sadly, before shaking his head. “Anyway, I can’t really tell you what else has changed. I didn’t have a lot of time to properly research it, and no one to ask. It didn’t help that Tony made sure to erase every file S.H.I.E.L.D. had on you.”

“The question is what are we going to do about it,” Bucky asked.

“I don’t think it’s even a question. Playing around with timelines is never a good idea. We have to figure out how to get back where we belong,” Steve replied.

Bucky could do nothing but nod, because in the end, Steve was right. Besides, even if he ever had feelings for Bucky, they were all left in the past. Steve had an entire life here, a woman he loved, people he cared about, and Bucky had no right to even try imposing.

A chance of them having a romantic relationship was the only thing that died in that plane crash that took Bucky’s arm and dumped his friend into the middle of the ocean.

“It was Kobik, wasn’t it? The one who replaced my memory,” Steve guessed. “The same way she did for all the villains in the Pleasant Hill?”

“She’s not to blame, Steve,” Bucky replied immediately. “She was manipulated by Red Skull, led to believe Hydra was good.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Steve agreed. “I won’t let anyone blame a four-year-old either, but can she change it all back?”

“Most likely, but not at the moment. She’s been drained after making so many changes to history. She’s asleep now, so we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

Steve smiled at him, and something warm and pleasant crawled into Bucky’s chest. “You got really attached to her,” he said softly.

That made Bucky’s cheek burn for some reason, and he found himself turning away. “I guess.” He shrugged trying to pretend it was nothing. “Just hate seeing kids being used like she was.”

“It’s a good thing she’s got you, you’re good at taking care of others.”

Bucky rolled his eyes on that, not really believing it. “Anyway,” he said, trying to lead the conversation somewhere else. “Are you hungry? Tired? We should probably get some sleep, too, to start figuring it all out first thing in the morning.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Steve nodded, then glanced around the room, looking a little uncomfortable. “Um, you wanna pretend we’re fighting, so I could sleep someplace else?”

“For crying out loud, Steve, there’s plenty of space here.” Bucky huffed getting up from the bed. He was trying to sound irritated, but his heart rate picked up at the prospect of sharing the bed again. “Just try not to steal the blankets like I know you do all the damn time.”

He moved to his closet to find if he had anything that would fit his friend to change into. He’d gained a lot of weight since he was twenty, and his shoulders became almost as wide as Steve’s, yet all Bucky’s clothes were going to be tight on him. Still, it was better than him climbing into the bed half-naked. _That_ would be way too difficult to ignore.

And what would you know, there were actually some clothes in Bucky’s closet in Steve’s size, as if the version of him from this particular timeline expected him coming over and staying for the night on a regular basis.

“Huh, that’s my motorcycle.” He heard Steve say and turned to him, seeing him holding the model Bucky had discovered on his table previously.

It was upside down in his hands and he was looking at its stand. Then Steve flipped the thing around, showing his own name at the bottom of the figurine.

“You want it back?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, realizing suddenly, he didn’t want to give it away. It was a small memento from the old days, when his life might still have been difficult, but the presence of Steve in it was a constant. Something that he thought would never change.

“No.” Steve chuckled softly and returned it onto the table. “There’s no way you took it from me without asking, which means I gave it to you. You don’t return gifts.”

Bucky was relieved, but Steve’s words made him feel too warm again. It was difficult being around his friend, and he wished he could either forget the last several days, or find himself back in his arms. “Here, I bet you gonna be more comfortable in this,” he said throwing the change of clothes at his friend. “And I’ll go find us an extra pillow and maybe some bottled water,” he added and moved to leave the room, allowing Steve to change in peace and quiet.

***

“A what now?” Kobik blinked in confusion, sleepily rubbing her eyes. Then, she looked from Bucky to Steve, her expression lighting up. “Hey Stevie-evie,” she announced as she went to hug him.

“Stevie-evie?” Steve raised an eyebrow in amusement, embracing her back. “Well, that’s new.”

“I asked if it was possible to return the history back to what it was before you started changing things around,” Bucky repeated his question, ignoring her suddenly starting to give nicknames to someone else besides him. Most importantly, he ignored the tiniest ping of jealousy for stopping being the only one on the receiving end of such special treatment.

Every change to this reality happened because of the altered past, and if Kobik was to undo it, the world was going to return back to its prior state. Or at least that was the theory.

Bucky had gotten up early that morning. Partially, it was to spare Steve the discomfort of waking up next to him. Mostly, so he could cook an unreasonable amount of eggs, bacon and grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone in the base to keep every party appeased.

Kobik had slept way longer than usual, and by he time she appeared in the kitchen, everyone had time to finish eating. Now, Bucky was making a new batch of food for her, because everything that he’d cooked earlier was either gone or cold and stale.

“I know you’re still low on powers, and I do hate asking you to use them, but you changing the past might have resulted in a lot of bad things happening,” Bucky added moving a freshly grilled sandwich to a plate before giving it to the girl.

“Mmm,” she said thoughtfully pulling the plate closer. “You do remember the bad Zemo trying to kill you before I changed everything?” She pouted, looking frightened now.

“You were under attack?” Steve surprised.

“Uh, yeah, like that has never happened before,” Bucky replied sarcastically. Then, seeing Steve’s stern expression, he added, “It will be different, we will be ready this time and won’t be caught off guard. Hell, we can even leave and wait it out.”

“I can help you,” Steve agreed.

“Alright, if bad Zemo won’t find me, I think I can do it,” Kobik said. “But rewriting everything again would require a lot of work, and I’m still very tired after pulling you back and forth through the time.” She yawned as if to accent her point.

“And how much time would you need?” Steve inquired.

Kobik turned thoughtful again. “A few days,” she replied before finally starting to eat her sandwich.

Bucky bit his lip. It meant he was stuck in this version of reality where everyone thought he was dating his best friend for another several days. Being the only two adults who knew the truth, they’d need to stay together. And here went Bucky’s plan of putting time and distance between them.

“Can you come here for a second?” Steve beckoned him meanwhile as he stood up from the table and moved outside of the kitchen, where Kobik couldn’t overhear them. “A few days. We can spend them researching what was in Eisendorf that Helmut was so eager to obtain,” he proposed as Bucky followed him.

“Great,” Bucky agreed. “Let’s get right to it.”

***

The trip to New York was more than awkward. The jet was one of the fastest airplanes, but it were still a little over two hours of flight. It was a lot of time, considering Bucky was stuck alone with Steve for the entire duration, both of them constantly throwing uneasy glances in each other’s direction.

The night before they had a lot of matters of business to discuss, but now all these topics were exhausted. On top of it, no matter how important their other issues were, there was a different line of questions on the tip of Bucky’s tongue, something he really wanted to know, but didn’t want to ask.

He wished they had playing cards at least, so he could cheat his friend out of all his pocket money.

In the end it was Steve who finally broke the silence. “Alright, what is it?” he asked. “Let’s clear out the air, ask.”

Sometimes Bucky hated his perceptiveness. “And what will this conversation entail? Will it really change anything?”

“I don’t know,” Steve confessed looking distantly into the cockpit of the jet. He didn’t really have to fly it, the thing having an autopilot, but Bucky guessed he was using it as an excuse not to look at him. “It all happened decades ago, and I know that it shouldn’t matter, that we both were different people even without the entire Hydra mindwipe. Yet...” he paused taking a deep breath, his shoulders sulking slightly. “I feel guilty.”

Bucky waited a moment more in case Steve was going to continue. He didn’t. “What for?” he prompted.

“I... when I was Hydra, I used you—“

“Please don’t even dare starting it,” Bucky rolled his eyes leaning into his own chair. “We both knew exactly what we were doing.”

“No, Buck. I did it to try manipulating you into staying.”

This would’ve felt like a stab in the heart, of only he didn’t know Steve so well. “So what, everything you told me back then was all a lie then? I don’t really believe it.”

“No, it wasn’t. Back then I—“ Steve stopped himself mid-sentence and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I was so in love with you back then, but I only acted on it to try keeping you close. And that’s not only it. Now I also feel like I cheated on Sharon, even if she hasn’t even been born back then. And I feel like I’m going to cheat on you by wanting to get her back, even if we, you and I, have never actually been in a relationship.”

And that was why Bucky hated heart to heart conversations. He’d never been as good with words as Steve, especially when it came down to feelings.

“Hey, let’s get few things straightened out. None of it is your fault. Wanna blame someone, blame Red Skull. We can even give him some extra beating next time we see him.” He chuckled, unable to prevent himself from imagining it. “As for the rest of it. You know, I slept with you for the exact same reasons. I mean, I’ve been curious to try it with you, too, when I was younger. And hey, it was great sex, really. If I ended up experimenting with a guy, you were the best choice I could’ve ever made.”

Technically, nothing he just said was a lie, so he decided to leave it at that. Steve was already blaming himself for everything, and Bucky didn’t want to add to it. He knew, if he was going to mention how much it changed things for him, his friend was going to be even more torn and guilty for wanting his life back.

Crap. Did he just said he used to be in love with Bucky? How hadn’t he ever noticed it? He’d been a teenager, not blind. Then again, at that time, between flirting with ladies and staring at Steve’s behind, fantasizing about fondling it, Bucky had been too busy to notice anything.

If it was true, then nothing Steve did was a manipulation. He had no reason to keep Bucky around in the first place, but he did, because he cared, because he wanted to. Even Hydra, he was a better person than Bucky.

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” Steve chuckled and smiled almost coyly. “I’m also glad it was with you.”

And just like that, Bucky was reduced to a puddle, wanting to melt down from his seat and onto the floor. If Steve was going to say something along the lines of him cherishing the memory of it, he was sure going to jump off the plane.

“Sooo, Steve.” He grinned instead. “I’m really curious. Did the serum made you bigger down there, or was it always like that?”

Turning a particularly prominent shade or red, Steve gifted him with a glare that was almost murderous, but at least Bucky was certain he managed to end their conversation.

The silence that followed would’ve been heavy and uncomfortable again, but at this point they were already starting to approach New York, tall skyscrapers rising over horizon. That was also when Steve’s phone started to ring.

He frowned glancing at the screen, his expression conflicted, as if he wasn’t sure he should pick it up. It took him several long seconds to make up his mind, but finally he pushed the answer button, bringing the device to his ear.

“Yes, Sam,” he said.

It was impossible to keep up with the conversation, given Bucky could only hear Steve’s end of it. He was, however, able to watch the changes in his friend’s expression. It started with concentration, with Steve trying to figure out what Sam wanted, but then it changed to shock, surprise, and something Bucky couldn’t put a finger on.

“Yes, I’ll be there in five minutes,” Steve concluded and hung up, then turned to look at Bucky. “I need to go the to Avengers Mansion,” he announced.

“What is it?” Bucky asked, realizing it was important — Steve wouldn’t have decided to derail their current mission otherwise.

Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s Ian... my son. I have to go.”

It was Bucky’s turn to be surprised. He’d heard about Ian before, the little boy Steve saved from Arnim Zola in the dimension X, raised as his own. Steve though Ian was dead for a while, but he’d appeared again as a complete adult later, only to disappear in a deferment alternative dimension.

“Oh,” Bucky managed, completely unsure what else to say. Steve was looking at him with desperation, as if Bucky refused him, it’d break Steve’s world. And, well, maybe it was the case. “We have several days, so I see no problem with checking in on your son first.”

Steve nodded, and his lips stretched into a warm, happy smile. “Thank you,” he said before beginning to set a new course.

***

The Avengers Mansion was spreading over an entire block in the heart of Manhattan. Its yellow-gray walls looked pristine, almost new, and Bucky couldn’t tell for sure whether or not it was the case. The building has been destroyed and rebuilt so many times, it was impossible to keep track.

Even from the distance, he was able to spot the level of security around it. There were snipers on the roof, guards at the entrance and the courtyard, and that was only what inhabitants of the place wanted people to see.

What they tried to keep hidden were small plates rising from the ground, most likely turrets, and strange devices situated around the premises that Bucky couldn’t tell the exact purpose of. On top of that, he was certain the groundskeepers had no reason to be this big and well-built.

Oh, and most of the superpowered members of the Avengers team lived in the building. That made the rest of the security pretty much obsolete.

Thankfully, this time, Bucky didn’t need to plan how to get through it all. Steve only needed to identify himself, and their jet was directed to the landing pad behind the courtyard.

“To tell the truth, I’d never agree to live here,” Bucky confessed as they were exiting the plane. “Not a single version of me, from any possible reality.”

“I guess, we moved back to Brooklyn,” Steve shrugged, yet he didn’t even look at Bucky, his eyes skimming the surroundings, his body tense but not in a way as if he was expecting a fight, more in impatience or nervousness.

Sam wasn’t waiting for them outside, but he was the first person who greeted them as they entered the large fenced archway and a wooden double door. Bucky had almost expected him to be geared up in full Captain America suit, but he wore only a pair of worn gray jeans and loose, white t-shirt. It looked very domestic, which didn’t seem to entirely fit with the rich interior of the building.

“Not that we mind spending an extra day with the kid, but it would be nice to have a warning next time,” Sam said to Steve instead of a greeting. “And hey, Bucky,” he added, switching his attention to the second guest. “Was nice of you to disappear all these weeks ago, after the Pleasant Hill.”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Steve replied. “We got tied up with something, had no chance to warn you.”

Sam nodded. “I figured that much. Is it serious?”

Before either Steve or Bucky could open their mouths to reply, however, they were interrupted by a high-pitched yelp of excitement. “Dad!” came a voice from somewhere upstairs and only a moment later a child started to run down a spiraling staircase.

Bucky had never seen Ian in person, but he was easily able to recognize him from some of Steve’s sketches. His brown hair was cut shorter than on the pictures, much neater, but it was still almost reaching down the base of his neck. He was also dressed casual, in jeans and a red and gray hoodie, instead of the strange armor-like outfit Steve usually depicted him in.

“How many times have I told you, not to run up and down the stairs?” Came a different voice, and a woman followed Ian. “Or do you wish to fall and break your neck?”

It appeared Avengers really considered this place to be their home, because this one was wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, her feet bare, her black hair loose, cascading down her shoulders. Despite it, there was a strange air of nobility about her, the way she was holding herself, the way she moved. It was almost mesmerizing to watch.

“Sorry, sis,” Ian replied and slowed down, walking the rest of the way, bursting into run again only when reaching the level ground.

Steve’s eyes never left the boy. He watched him awestruck, and Bucky could see tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. As Ian reached him, Steve all but dropped to his knees, embracing the boy tightly and just holding him. “I’m sorry, I’m so-so sorry,” he muttered against the boy’s shoulder.

“Hey, it’s ok, dad. I had fun here with Jet and Sam,” Ian replied a little confused.

“Ugh, Steve.” Sam frowned watching the two with concern. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered immediately, without even a trace of uncertainty. “Now it will be.”

And just like that, Bucky understood that it really, really wouldn’t.


	8. Chapter 8

There were several Helicarriers hovering around the Triskelion, the amount of security as tight as ever. Still, after only exchanging a few words with Steve, they allowed them to land on one of the pads.

The place hadn’t changed much since Bucky saw it last, when he was sneaking around for some data Fury had once asked him to extract. It was composed of the same glassy interiors, painted in same bluish tints of paint. Except it was so much brighter during the day.

There were more people, too, agents of all possible ranks dressed in variations of black and white. It made the red and blue of Steve’s uniform stand out, turning him into the focal point of the scenery.

It was really strange to be here, in the open. Bucky was sure that even in this version of reality he was still wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D., yet, no one tried to stop them.

Most higher ranking agents were simply looking away when greeting Steve. Some younger ones were trying to sneak discrete glances, their expression varying from surprise to giddy happiness. Two girls they passed started to whisper something to each other the moment they were out of earshot. At least when they thought it was the case, not taking into account Steve’s improved by the serum hearing.

“Uh,” he whispered, sounding a little uncomfortable as he leaned in to Bucky. “I gather our relationship is not public knowledge, but people gossip still.”

“You don’t say,” Bucky rolled his eyes, then his intonation turned mischievous, “Hey, you know it’ll return to normal in a few days. You wanna hold hands, make them lose their minds?”

Steve visibly tensed at the suggestion, and it took Bucky a second to figure out it wasn’t because he proposed holding hands.

“You sure you don’t want to return to the mansion and spend time with Ian?” He did his best not to project worry into his voice, because he remembered how difficult it was for Steve to ask Sam and Jet to let Ian stay with them for a little longer.

Bucky had no idea what went different in this timeline that allowed Steve to bring the child into the core dimension, he couldn’t even start guessing.

Once again, a thought about asking Kobik to leave this particular difference unchanged crossed his mind. He knew how dangerous it was, boarderlining with abusing the girl’s powers for personal gain. But this was different than any other time he’d considered it. He simply couldn’t bear seeing so much pain and guilt in Steve’s eyes.

He wondered if Steve would ever agree to it, but no matter how well he knew his friend, he couldn’t say it for sure.

“I wish I could.” Steve sighed. “But whatever was in that town was there before the flow of events was altered, and it’s still there. If Helmut survived our encounter, I have no doubt he will continue going after it.”

“Very well,” Bucky agreed and fell silent.

The rest of the way to the archives was uneventful, which was a nice change of pace. As the last door closed behind their backs, Bucky looked around and let out a sigh of apprehension. “It’s gonna take forever.”

The room itself was enormous, ceiling reaching up at least thirty feet. Most of it was occupied by server frames, which Bucky knew resided on only internal network. The other half of the area, however, was stacked full with shelves, each containing physical documents so old it was surprising they weren’t crumbling.

There was a curator of some sort, a man with gray hair and mustache behind a desk. Thick, black framed glasses on his nose, he was reading a book, and paying absolutely no attention to the two newcomers. 

“Please do whatever you need, but be quiet and respectful,” he said plainly without even raising his eyes from the book. That made Bucky suspect he wouldn’t be of any help locating needed information.

“You can take the digital side if you want,” Steve proposed. “You’re faster than me with computers anyway.”

“You are aware how much work you’re signing yourself up for?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, ready to gladly accept his friend’s proposition.

“Just need the files from 1944 to 1945.” Steve nodded. “Shouldn’t take that long, right?”

***

Bucky wanted to blame Steve for jinxing them, but it really was the nature of the beasts. They were bound to spend a considerable amount of time here from the very start.

His search for anything related to Eisendorf in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s operations section didn’t bring any results. Probably because the small town in Germany held little interest in recent history.

Next, Bucky occupied himself with learning more about the reality they found themselves in, more importantly things that he’d personally done. It was a long shot, considering he’d worked for Fury who, at the time, had no affiliation with S.H.I.E.L.D. Still, he decided to try his luck.

He researched the fate of Queen Ventolin, who he was supposed to assassinate to stop a major intergalactic conflict. He worried that without ending up in bed with her — and he honestly believed that no version of him would ever cheat on Steve — he might’ve actually taken the job.

Bucky wasn’t sure how, but he was able to find something. Every event described in the report on the matter here looked painfully similar to the one he remembered writing to Fury. That, in turn, made him wonder weather it meant S.H.I.E.L.D. had agents in outer space, or a better work relationship with its ex-director than he thought.

Then Bucky stumbled upon some reports on things he had no memories about. For instance, one of them was about him and Steve taking a vacation in Prague, managing to stop a terrorist attack. He remembered hearing about it, almost twenty people had died that day, almost fifty had been injured. Now all of them were completely fine.

On another hand, it meant he’d never taken some missions with Natasha, and the lives he’d managed to save there were now lost.

“Alright.” Steve approached him with a stack of documents, looking a little concerned. “I think I found something really important,” he announced offering Bucky a folder.

There was a single piece of folded paper inside, a copy of a document in German. Glancing over it, Bucky noted it to be a birth certificate. “Huh, that’s... something,” he declared staring at the familiar name of Johann Shmidt, who, according to this document, was born in 1906 in... “Eisendorf?!” he surprised.

“Please be courteous, young man,” the archive curator sounded from his desk. His voice almost made Bucky jump, his hand reaching for the holster on his side, because he completely forgot the guy was even there.

“It’s not even a libr—“ He started to speak, but stopped mid sentence under the curator's leveled stare.

“Sorry, Stan,” Steve apologized for him, before turning his attention back to Bucky. “This is too weird to be a coincidence,” he agreed with a nod.

Trying to get his mind back into the issue at hand, Bucky rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yet, it answers exactly none of our question, just adds a few new ones,” he said feeling his frustration grow. They’ve learned it by now, Skull had an interest in the town, they just had no idea it might’ve been personal. “What is the rest of it?” he asked pointing at more old looking folders in his friend’s hands.

“Oh,” Steve dropped them on the desk before Bucky. “The aftermath of our battle with Helmut. My memory of it ends soon after I saw the zeppelin crashing into the army of droids. Turns out I then dug you out of the wreckage still alive, carried you back to Doctor Zeller.”

Bucky felt blood draining from his face. When he looked through the files, he didn’t see any mentions of Gretchen, but he could guess they had to see each-other again. Talk for longer than a short exchange that happened during the battle. He wondered if he’d asked her not to wait, and whether or not she’d been mad at him for that.

As for the rest of it, he’d spent almost four months recovering from his injuries, and about two months after he got back to his feet, the drone plane happened. He’d lost his arm, and Steve had fallen into the ocean to be recovered decades later.

The casualties of the invasion were minimal, with three people dead, and a few more injured. Of course Bucky would’ve preferred to save everyone, but the alternative was to lose the entire village. He’d feared it was more devastating before seeing the numbers on paper.

“And I assume Helmut managed to survive it all, too.” Bucky nodded finally, pushing the files away from himself, leaning into the backrest of the chair he sat on.

“Most likely. Unless Heinrich had another son to become the next Baron Zemo,” Steve agreed. “What about you, found anything important here?”

“No, nothing that would help us.” Bucky shook his head. “So unless you have other ideas, I guess we need to fly back to Germany now.”

“I have other ideas.” A third voice came from the entrance, both of them turning sharply in its direction. “How about we go somewhere quiet, and you tell me what is going on?” asked Sharon Carter.

A dead silence hung in the room, and Bucky felt panic settling in him as he stared at her, young and beautiful again. She watched them closely, her expression challenging, as if she knew for sure they would try to come up with a half-assed excuse of why she couldn’t join. And hell, that was exactly what Bucky was doing in his head, and he was sure Steve was doing the same.

“Oh for crying out loud.” Stan’s voice thundered through the room. “Didn’t I ask you, kids, to be quiet?”

***

Bucky had to admit, Sharon was an awesome person. It wasn’t even because she offered a ride to Steve’s apartment on her flying car and bought them coffee on the way there. It was because after Steve had tried to start an awkward and meaningless small talk, she only rolled her eyes and said, “Cut the crap, Rogers, you’re better than that. What happened?”

They were high above the ground, traveling over the city. It was windy in the air, and by all laws of logic it should’ve been affecting their ability to speak, but somehow they didn’t even need to raise their voices.

“This would be too difficult to believe, trust me.” Steve offered her a tired smile.

He looked miserable the entire flight. Of course, he tried to pretend nothing out of ordinary was happening, but not once Bucky caught him looking at Sharon with a sort of sadness.

Bucky knew him well enough to realize Steve wasn’t feeling sorry for himself. Kobik had already assured she would be able to fix the timeline, and him being apart from Sharon was only temporary.

He could speculate Steve felt a little nostalgic seeing her young again. He doubted it was the real reason, however, because it was also guilt Bucky could see in his expression.

“Steve, we live in a world where we find frozen World War Two heroes, portals constantly open into weird dimensions, there are scientist who turn into green raging monsters when angry, and little girls with pet dinosaurs. What can you possibly tell me that can surprise me? Besides,” she added giving Bucky a glance through the rearview mirror, “I’m actually required to arrest you, as you’re still wanted for kidnapping Kobik. That means something really important is going on for you to show up here.”

Steve turned to look at Bucky as if asking for a permission, and Bucky only offered him a shrug, indicating it was his decision. “Kobik changed a few things in the past, and the two of us woke up yesterday in an alternated present.”

Sharon fell silent for a while, before finally nodding in understanding. And that was also why Bucky thought she was awesome. Just like when he found out about Steve turning Hydra, instead of disbelief or humour, she looked like it was another Tuesday. 

“Alright, just let’s finish our trip, because no way I’m continuing this conversation while piloting,” she said calmly.

***

For all the times Bucky had spent in Steve’s presence, he realized he hadn’t stepped a foot into his apartment in a long while. Not that the place ever looked impersonal before, but there were moments when Bucky thought his friend simply didn’t care. He treated it like he’d treated military barracks back during the war. Like it was a temporary accommodation that could never fully belong to him.

It wasn’t completely different now, but the little details that changed, really stood out in Bucky’s eyes. There were knives hanging on one of the walls. They seemed to be decorative at a first glance, but Bucky could instantly tell they were sharp and ready to be used in a fight. They were also his.

There were two clean mugs on the counter in the kitchen area, one had a blue star on it, the other one had a red one. Bucky doubted that either of them would’ve gotten these mugs, so it was most likely a gift. A box of Bucky’s favorite candy bars sat on the cupboard.

On a shelf near the TV stand, he could spot several science fiction movies, which he knew Steve had no interest in. He, meanwhile, had watched every one of them, able to appreciate a mindless flick from time to time.

Bucky also immediately noted the evidences of Ian’s presence. There was a gaming console under the TV, some drawings which were well above a ten-year-old level, hung on the fridge. A Captain America build-a-bear was watching the three of them from the couch with its black, button eyes.

“So,” Sharon began speaking again as she moved to sit beside it, still nursing the large paper cup of coffee in her hands. “Care to enlighten me on what happened now?”

And Steve did. He told her everything starting with Kobik changing his memories, to their fight with Helmut, skipping only the very private parts of his and Bucky’s time in the cabin.

“Yeah, alright, I heard most of it before, minus it being Kobik swiping your memories, and you thinking you actually were Hydra,” Sharon nodded taking a sip of her drink. “That’s the story of how you two got together.” 

“That’s the thing,” Steve sighed. “In our actual timeline, none of it happened. My memories were never changed, we never fought Helmut at Eisendorf, and me and Bucky, well, we were just friends.”

“Oh,” Sharon blinked in surprise, moving her gaze from one man to the other. “That’s too bad, you two seem to be good for each other.”

Bucky almost scoffed at that. Not that he disagreed with her, quite the opposite, in fact. The two of them were a great team on a battlefield, and friends good enough they always had things to talk about, even when they saw each other once a year. He could imagine that kind of dynamic transferring well into a romantic relationship. But hearing somebody else say it was really bizarre.

It also made him ponder how it would be to actually date Steve. He had only a few second before he pushed the thoughts away, but it was more than enough time to make the reality without it grimmer.

There was probably something in the way Steve looked at Sharon that made her eyes widen. “Oh,” she whispered, bringing her thumb to her lips. “I’m sorry, I... I have no idea what to say.”

Their eyes locked, and the moment turned so private, Bucky felt like intruding. Mixing with his earlier thoughts about his and Steve’s nonexistent relationship, it was making his stomach twist in a most unpleasant manner. 

They were supposed to be figuring things out together, but instead Bucky felt like he got a front row seat into the show of Steve’s life. One where he barely belonged. He wanted to run, to be anywhere else in the galaxy, but not here.

To distract himself, he focused on one of the shelves nearby and instantly regretted it. There were framed pictures on it. One of them was of Steve and Ian. The boy looked nothing like Steve, not his biological son, but he made Steve look so happy, so proud next to him. 

Another picture was obviously from a Fourth of July, fireworks lighting up the sky in the background. It was a group picture with him, Steve and Ian in the middle. On the right side from them stood Sam and Jet, one of Sam’s arms casually thrown around Steve’s shoulder. On the other side was Sharon and a man with curly, brown hair. One of this man’s hands laid on Sharon’s weist, the other was helping her hold a baby, who looked to be about year old.

Bucky wondered if Steve saw it, knew this version of Sharon had a child with somebody else. Whether or not he was just a turn of a head away from finding it out for the first time.

Even further left from Sharon and her husband were Natasha and, what surprised Bucky the most, Clint. There were napkins sticking out of the guy’s nose, as if he’d ended up in a fight, but he was grinning like an idiot, waving at the camera.

The last picture was of Bucky and Steve alone. It was a sweet moment, with Steve half-embracing him from behind, his chin resting on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky’s own head was thrown a little back, his temple resting against Steve’s check.

These were all snippets of life that seemed too good to be true, life that wasn’t his, that he had not a single recollection of. And suddenly Bucky felt so overwhelmed, he could barely take a breath.

He heard Steve and Sharon discussing something in the background, but their voices were muffled as if he was submerged into water. There was a heavy lump forming in his throat, and his face burned with an effort to hold tears from reaching his eyes.

He needed to force himself to speak as he started to walk towards the exit. “I’m gonna go have some fresh air,” he announced.

Steve turned his attention to him immediately. “Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded already halfway out of the apartment. “Just need a few moments. Alone,” he added before closing the door behind himself, hoping it didn’t look like he was running away.

***

The sun had already had time to set, the dusk descending down upon the city. The air outside was cold, especially in comparison to Steve’s warm apartment. There was steam coming out of Bucky’s mouth with every exhale and he had to huddle further into his jacket.

Without thinking, the started to walk down a half empty street, ignoring occasional pedestrians passing by and filtering out the noise of the traffic. He wasn’t sure how long he was walking, but at some point he found himself strolling down the bank of East River. The wind was stronger here, and it was now getting under his clothes, chilling him to the core.

At least the view was making it up for the discomfort. The lights of Manhattan from the other side of the river were reflecting on the surface of water, looking like a distorted double of the city.

It, too, looked exactly the same as Bucky remembered. Not a single major event had been altered by his bad decisions of the past, only the lives of people close to him. Only his own life.

Dropping heavily on a nearby bench, he reached for the pocket of his pants, extracting his phone. His finger hovered a moment over the folder with photos, before he tapped it, several hundreds of pictures appearing on the screen before him. They were arranged by the year, cataloging every big and little difference between his real life and the strange dream he woke up to.

It wasn’t at all surprising most of them were of him and Steve.

“Oh please, put it addendum on my tombstone. Here lies Bucky Barnes, he lived in gray moral area and had a miserable love life,” he muttered locking the phone.

And worst of all was that he’d predicted the outcome of his decision in vivid details, up to the tears he was still trying to fight. 

And then he couldn’t do even that. Pain and exhaustion from several longest days took over him completely, his vision blurring. Several quiet sobs escaped his chest to be swallowed by the night as he started to cry.

In a moment of vulnerability, he imagined Steve coming to look for him, finding him in this miserable state. He would realize what happened immediately, he was smart like that. Except, there was no way Steve would come. He was with Sharon now, and even if this version of her was not his lover, it was her Steve loved still.

But it was ok, one day he was going to get over it, because he managed to do it once before, several times even. For now, he was going to sit here, watching the night scenery until the cold was going to become too much to bear. Then, he would think what to do next.

He only finished coming up with this plan of action, when his phone began ringing. With his right hand shaking from either cold or nervousness, he cleared his eyes and looked at the caller ID. He expected it to be Steve and already started to try coming up with excuses of why he’d left. Except it was Melissa interrupting his thoughts.

“Hey,” he answered, hoping his voice didn’t sound too off, and it wouldn’t betray his state.

“Bucky, we have a big problem,” she started to speak immediately. “Helmut has assaulted the base. He took Kobik.”


	9. Chapter 9

Sharon was pushing her car as fast as she could, which made their flight rather bumpy despite her good piloting skills. The entire way, Bucky was clutching onto the door handle, feeling a tiny bit terrified, even while having an experience of flying in an actual spaceship.

She dropped them at the Triskelion docks and started to order people around. “Just so we’re clear, I’m leaving before Hill shows up. She can’t possibly force me to do anything, or stop you, but she sure will try,” she said turning to Steve and Bucky. “I’m sorry, I wish I could go with you.”

“You’ve done enough, thank you.” Steve nodded.

“You sure you don’t want to wait for the rest of the Avengers? Well, the ones that are around, anyway.”

This time it was Bucky who answered her. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t wait. I have to try getting to Zemo before he can do anything to Kobik.”

He felt stupid to think Zemo wasn’t a threat until they fixed the timeline, he had to see it coming, had to at least take precautions. But he did nothing of the sort, too preoccupied with own problems.

He didn’t even know what Helmut wanted, why he was dragging a captured girl back to a tiny lone town in Germany, that somehow had turned out to be the location of major significance for both him and Red Skull.

“Round up whoever you can, send them our way,” Steve added. “But we’ll go ahead.”

Sharon watched him closely for a moment, then leaned in to place a quick kiss on his cheek. Then she whispered something into his ear, that Bucky couldn’t hear. She started to move away, but Steve’s own hand came up to take hers, their fingers entwining. They stood there in place for a long second, their eyes locked.

There were layers and layers of nonverbal communication between the two, which Bucky couldn’t even start to comprehend. He couldn’t stop himself from feeling relieved when Steve let go, when nothing in Steve’s expression showed how much he didn’t want to let go of Sharon.

Instead, he offered her a tired smile. “Say hello to Ellie for me,” he asked.

“I won’t,” Sheron replied. “Come visit when you win, she’ll be happy to see you.”

She moved to Bucky next, embracing him. “Take care. Please,” she asked almost pleadingly, before turning around and starting to walk back towards her car.

It was only when she almost reached it, Steve allowed his expression to slip, pain reaching his eyes. Bucky had no idea what the two of them talked about when he was gone, but it was obviously what affected Steve to this extend.

“Ellie?” Bucky asked trying to distract him from gloomy thoughts. 

“Sharon’s daughter,” Steve replied. “I think there was a picture of her on the shelf you looked at at my place. Except she’s almost three years old now.”

The ground trembled beneath Bucky, and an airlock opened about twenty feet away from them. A jet similar to the one they arrived here in, rose from under the ground, some of the dock workers gesturing for them it was ready.

“Oh,” was the only thing Bucky managed in reply as they started to walk towards the plane. 

There was something heavy in the air, something unspoken. Steve’s shoulders were tense, and Bucky saw him opening his mouth several times, but changing his mind the last moment.

Only after they got into the jet, after Steve started the engines and took off, he spoke again. “I told her everything,” he said.

“Yeah, you did. I was there,” Bucky pointed out.

“No, I mean... what her and me were. What our life was like.”

Bucky didn’t know Sharon well enough to even imagine what her reaction would be, but he knew Steve. Suddenly, the latest interaction between the two started to make more sense.

“She asked me not to take her life away from her. Her family.”

“Yes, but she’s never lived the other life. Do you think the Sharon you knew would agree to change everything, to loose you?”

It was meant as a reassurance, a way of telling Steve the woman he loved wouldn’t want to leave him for somebody else. Somehow, it had exactly the opposite effect. Steve tensed even further, and averted his eyes, his jaw clenching.

“There is... something almost no one knows. When we were fighting against the Registration Act, Sharon, she carried my child,” Steve said and Bucky stilled in his chair, his thoughts starting to race. “She lost it when Zola kidnapped her, and afterwards she was no longer able to have any.

“She’s never really planned to, not with our line of work, so it’s never really been an issue. But now, when she’s got a daughter... I don’t think she was making a choice between me and her husband.”

Steve fell silent, but Bucky continued to sit there with his eyes wide open, unable to look anywhere else but a dashboard in front of his nose. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he managed finally, and felt like an idiot for not being able to come up with anything better. “What... what are you planning to do now?” he decided to ask, glancing at his friend. “Do you really think we could stay in this reality?”

Steve’s expression became even harsher somehow, but this time it was almost as if he was angry. “But that’s the problem, Buck. I don’t know if it’s even  _ we _ . You expect me do decide what needs to be done, but you’ve never chipped in as to what  _ you _ want. How much changed in life for  _ you _ .”

Bucky stared at him. This time he not only didn’t know how to answer, but couldn’t even muster any sort of a reply, acknowledge he even heard the question.

But what he could possibly say? That he thought this timeline was better for everyone? That Steve would feel forever guilty for taking something important from Sharon, or that he would never see his own son again? 

Or that there was a big part of him that desperately clenched to the hope that with Sharon out of the picture, he could take her place?

He sighed. “Probably because it’s all my fault to begin with. I should’ve been a responsible adult, I should've known better. Instead, I jumped into a bed with you at the first opportunity.”

Steve hummed in exasperation. “It’s not your fault. You were just twenty, Buck. People are rarely reasonable adults at twenty. Take it from me,” he added a little more lighthearted, almost humorous, “I willingly got myself tied up to a medical bed and pumped full of experimental serum at that age.”

“Except I wasn't really twenty, was I?” He all but snapped in reply, because he couldn’t take it any longer. Couldn’t take lying or hiding something from his friend. “My body was. My current mind was sort of transported into it.”

Steve’s eyes went wider, but he was quiet for some time. ”Why?” he asked finally.

“Because,” Bucky replied deciding he had nothing else to lose. “Because I wanted to. I’ve wanted you for a long damn time, even if I pushed it away, so far I even managed to convince myself it was never there.” He paused to wipe a tear that gathered in the corner of his eye. “I thought it was my only chance.”

The silence between them turned very heavy, and Bucky was afraid to even move. He had no idea how Steve would react, didn’t know what his friend would think of him now, or what they were going to do. 

What he didn’t expect was for Steve’s voice to turn small as he spoke, almost a whisper. “Do you... still?” he asked with so much uncertainty, it surprised Bucky.

And suddenly he realized he might’ve been wrong all along. This entire time, he thought he had no chance with Steve, felt obligated to try restoring the world to the state before he messed it up, returning everything back to how it was before. But maybe the world  _ was _ better like this, maybe he  _ could _ try making it work with Steve.

“I...” he began speaking as he looked his friend in the eyes. Exactly in time to see a flash of panic on his face.

Hastedly, Steve twisted the yoke to the side, the jet reeling hard enough Bucky almost flew off the seat. He wanted to complain, ask what was happening, but a fraction of a second later, an explosion blared on the side of them.

Their plane shook violently, but it was impossible to tell how hard they were hit yet. Steve was already steadying their flight trajectory, turning the plane enough for Bucky to see their attackers.

“This can’t be,” he muttered in shock seeing the _ Zeus _ , Thunderbolts’ command ship, charging it’s weapons again. “Steve, can you get them on the comm?”

“Already on it,” Steve replied, his fingers moving over the holographic panels on the dashboard. “Not that it would do us any good.”

“This is the Winter Soldier.  _ Zeus _ , power down your weapons,” Bucky commanded as soon as the communication with the other ship was established.

A little staticky image of Karla in the full Moonstone gear appeared on the screen before them. “Sorry Bucky. This is nothing personal, but I can’t let the two of you pass.”

“So, you’re betraying me,” Bucky groaned, his hands clenching into the armrest of his seat.

There was a second when Karla was silent, as if considering her next words. “No, Bucky. You’re the one who’s never been a Thunderbolt, at least not in a way it was really intended. We are not an institution for lost souls who seek redemption, neither are we a daycare for cosmic cubes turned children. If you really wanted to be our leader, you should’ve seen it.”

At the mention of Kobik, Bucky’s blood boiled with anger. “What did you do to her?!”

“Her? Call it as it is. It’s not a human, was never intended to be. It’s a power to harness, and all this time we were supposed to focus on figuring out how to return it to its previous state, because it’s incomplete in its current form.”

And just like that, Bucky suddenly realized what Zemo was looking for in Eisendorf, what Kobik wanted to never be found. Her human form was made out of cube’s fragments, when she couldn’t shape herself into the right form. Or didn’t want to, sending a piece of herself someplace else, somewhere she knew about. “Oh god,” he whispered.

“There’s a cosmic cube shard buried in the town,” Steve joined in, sounding as shocked as Bucky felt.

“You  _ are _ smart,” Karla replied. “I could’ve found a use for the two of you. It’s sad it has to come down to it.”

With that, she took another shot. 

Steve tried to evade by ducking down, and was mostly successful. Still, the shot grazed the roof, enough to tear through the hull. Lights on a panel in front of Bucky started to blink angry red, indicating the breach and the instant loss of cabin pressure. 

Thankfully, they weren’t flying on the same altitude as commercial crafts, and it wasn’t life-threatening. Still, Bucky felt his ears ring, and everything around started to spin just a little harder.

Pushing the discomfort aside, he slammed a button on the collar of his jacket, his mask sliding over his face. Then, he reached out for the weapon controls, planning to start returning fire.

There was little chance a single, standard issue S.H.I.E.L.D. jet could stand against the _ Zeus _ . They had a disadvantage in everything but maneuverability. Yet, Bucky hoped it was going to be enough, if combined with Steve’s superhuman reactions, and better piloting skills.

“Take the control over the jet,” Steve commanded instead and unbuckled himself from the chair, reaching for his shield.

“What?” Bucky surprised. He wanted to turn and stare at his friend in shock, but instead he saw the Thunderbolts’ flagship firing the main canon. He had to reach out for the yoke to turn it all the way to the left, trying to avoid a direct hit, which could finish them in a single go.

“Fly directly over them as soon as I get on the hull,” Steve continued meanwhile, and Bucky managed to sneak a glance at the cargo hold just enough to see his friend climbing out of the still smoking hole in the ceiling.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he yelled, at an already empty area behind him. Gritting his teeth, He had nothing else left to do but follow Steve’s command. He started to loop around the  _ Zeus _ , occasionally returning the fire, until he thought he had a clear shot at an approach.

It started well, Bucky having a good opening on the larger ship’s flank. He was closing in fast, but before he managed to reach it, several panels on  _ Zeus _ ’ side slid out of the way, more cannons appearing out of them, all taking an aim.

“Oh shit,” he said out loud. Above him, he heard a thud, and an array of sparks exploded to the side of his head. A glowing energy blade of Steve’s new shield poked through the thick layers of metal, and Bucky realized his friend was bracing himself for an impact.

Pulling the yoke as hard towards himself as he could, Bucky tried to dodge the ballistic array, but he didn’t have enough time. Heavy, anti-vehicular rounds ripped through the metal plating of their lighter aircraft, completely tearing off its tail.

The force of the impact sent them into a half-spin, and the plane began falling to its side. There was some control Bucky still had over it, but without the tail, piloting became impossible.

“Get out of there, now!” Steve commanded into his ear over the intercom, and for once, Bucky didn’t feel like arguing.

It became obvious, they weren’t going to make it, and Bucky slammed the button that opened the cargo hold. The structural damage done to the jet was extensive, but he hoped it wasn’t enough to jam the hatch.

With a loud metallic screech and a cascade of sparks, it started to open, and a few items that were stored inside flew out of it.

Next, Bucky pulled the lever to eject his seat, but nothing happened. He tried again and again, before realizing it wasn’t going to work. By that point, there was barely enough time left, the surface of the ocean approaching rapidly.

“Bucky, what are you doing there?” Came Steve’s almost panicked voice.

“Going through some technical difficulties.”

Trying to jump out of the cargo hatch was dangerous, but staying inside was almost suicidal. Clenching into the seat not to be thrown out, Bucky unbuckled his belt.

Immediately, his body was lurched up, but he managed to hold on. There was no time for multiple attempts, no time for trying to calculate the trajectory, so he took a deep breath and leaped into the cargo hold.

With his luck, he fully expected to hit his head on a wall or break a leg, but to his surprise, he only bumped his knee. He didn’t even have time to notice how painful it was, because the next thing he knew, he was submerged into icy water.

The experience was almost familiar after all the times he was put into a cryogenic stasis. Still, he didn’t think he was even remotely used to it. The cold was paralyzing, seeping under his skin the moment he touched the water. It was disorienting, but Bucky tried to push through, swim towards the surface, yet the weight of his metal arm was pulling him deeper.

He was starting to run out of oxygen, his lungs burning from the need to breathe. With the last bit of strength, he reached for the clasps attaching his arm to the shoulder and released it. There was some wiring left, tubes connecting the arm to his nervous system. Without a second thought, he tore it all off, grateful the sensitivity in the arm was so basic, he barely felt a thing.

He thought he wasn’t going to reach the surface, starting to lose consciousness. Everything around was turning darker, and his limbs were stopping to listen to him.

A pair of hands wrapped around his torso, and Bucky relaxed feeling it. He knew it was Steve, allowed to be dragged upwards, until they both rose from the water.

“Bucky, are you alright?” Steve’s voice appeared right next to his ear.

Clenching into his friend, Bucky took a much needed breath, feeling relief as fresh air filled his lungs. “Fine,” he answered as soon as he was able to push the word out.

There were supplies floating everywhere around them, the jet still slowly submerging into the ocean about fifty feet away. Above them, he saw the _ Zeus _ disengaging the combat, starting to turn around. Karla, it seemed, had no interest in making sure they were dead, only sent here to slow them down. Then again, neither she worried about them dying in the crash, so the gesture wasn’t an act of mercy, but rather one of indifference.

“Shit,” he swore through his teeth that now started to clatter.

“There is a raft here, let me...” Steve said starting to swim towards one of the floating containers, pulling Bucky after himself. Reaching it, he tugged a small cord, and the raft instantly expanded into a large yellow rawboat. “At least we won’t drown,” he sighed as they climbed into it.

“Shit, shit, shit. God dammit,” Bucky was repeating as he realized the severity of their situation. They were stuck in the middle of the ocean, unable to reach Zemo in time and save Kobik. There were others who knew the destination and the approximate route of their flight, but it were still going to be days before someone would find the wreckage.

And it was assuming they weren’t going to freeze to death before it.

Bucky’s entire body was trembling, teeth chattering with force. Water was dripping from his soaked clothes and onto the bottom of the boat.

“We really should stop doing it,” Steve said, and there was the same shakiness to his voice as to Bucky’s, because the cold was bad enough even a super soldier felt it. “Jumping from planes.”

“No fucking shit,” Bucky replied, and it meant Steve was in the worst of moods, because he didn’t even admonish him for the crude choice of words.

Instead, Steve moved closer, his large arms wrapping around Bucky. He was wet and cold, too, and there was absolutely no relief from this embrace. Still, Bucky leaned in without thinking, hiding his face into the crook of Steve’s shoulder, and for several long moments they just stayed like that, shivering together.

Then Steve reached out starting to tug on Bucky’s wet jacket, pulling it off his shoulders. Palms of his hands came to rub against his now exposed skin, trying to bring some semblance of blood flow back to it. “You know, it kinda reminds me more of that one time we were on a mission in France, with the Howlers.”

Bucky frowned trying to recollect the events. “The one time you almost drowned and we lost your shield?” he asked, his own hand coming to tug on the buckles of Steve’s uniform. It was shaking rather violently, and undressing somebody with only one arm was a challenge, but at least it gave Bucky a distraction.

“You saved me back then.”

“Yeah? Wow, that’s unheard of.”

Steve huffed, but otherwise ignored Bucky’s sarcastic remark. “I realized something that day,” he continued instead, “that I can always rely on you. That with you by my side, even the war itself seemed less scary.”

Bucky stilled completely, his nose still pressed into the jugular vein on Steve’s neck, feeling his pulse and inhaling the smell of salt from his skin.

“When I woke up after being frozen for years, it was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced. Not because everything seemed so alien, or because I thought I would never fit in, but because I didn’t have you.”

“Please don’t tell me you are saying all these things just because you think we are going to die out here.”

“No, not because of it.” Steve chuckled. “In fact, I’m pretty sure we’ll be just fine.”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Bucky heard a strange, but familiar noise, like a propulsion system of a small airplane approaching their location.

“Whoa there, lovebirds, I hope I ain’t interrupting anything,” Tony Stark’s voice came from the side of them, muffled and sounding as coming from speakers.

As Bucky turned his head, he saw Tony in the Iron Man suit, hovering about fifteen feet above the water, the surface of it rippling under the propulsors in his feet and hands.

“No, Tony. This is perfect timing,” Steve grinned. “Are you alone or is more help on the way?”

“More help is actually already here,” Tony replied soundly proud of himself, as an Avengers’  _ Quinjet _ uncloaked right above their heads.

***

“You know, you could’ve waited twenty more minutes and all of us would’ve left New York together,” Tony was musing as he finished attaching Bucky’s old arm.

It was one he threw away last week, while escaping a S.H.I.E.L.D. compound, because he was sure it was bugged. He trusted Tony enough to know he would’ve removed all unwanted additions if he was aware of them. And even if he wasn’t, Bucky didn’t have time to worry about it now, grateful he at least had it for the upcoming battle.

He flexed his fingers, checking if everything was in working order. As it was expected, it was, better even than the arm Paul had build for him. Then again, maybe it was Bucky’s bitterness at  Paul’s betrayal affecting his judgement.

It was also the one with the red star on the shoulder. Somehow, no matter what he was trying to change it to, he was always returning back to it.

“It seems like common sense now, but back when we received the news, waiting didn’t feel right,” Steve replied. “Besides, if the Thunderbolts used Bucky’s arm to track us, they would’ve attacked the  _ Quinjet _ .”

“Not all Thunderbolts,” Bucky interjected. “Melissa... Songbird, she was the one who warned me about the attack. The rest of them, they aren’t bad people, they just...”

“Followed Helmut Zemo, the original founder of their little, merry group of criminals,” Tony finished. “You know, Barnes, for somebody with your history, you’re awfully trusting.”

Bucky looked away from Tony and glanced at Steve. He found nothing in his best friend’s expression but support and understanding, and it made him smile just a little bit. “I guess, it’s just the company I keep.”

Tony made a disgruntled sound and got up from his work bench. “Well, when you two are done looking at each other all doe-eyed, we can move to the cockpit. I think we almost reached the mainland.”


	10. Chapter 10

The town of Eisendorf seemed almost untouched by the passage of time. Same stone buildings and rock-paved streets were forming its center, same lone mountain towering above it.

It was bigger than during the war, and there were many new houses spreading in every direction in the outskirts. Even then, it was impossible to mistake it for any other place Bucky had ever visited.

He thought it would’ve looked peaceful, if not for a giant vortex that formed above the town. Overall, it resembled a tornado that was made of deep blue energy and was shooting lightning. Currents around it were picking up small debris from the ground, breaking branches from trees.

“Please don’t tell me we are too late,” Sam said crossing his arms over his chest. 

The cockpit of the  _ Quinjet _ was tiny, but it was still possible to fit everyone Sharon had managed to gather. Which, unfortunately, weren’t too many people, considering the short notice they were given.

At the time the news reached the Avengers Mansion, the only members of the team present were Tony, Sam and the woman named Jet that Bucky had seen earlier. He’d gathered she was the daughter of Arnim Zola by now, sister to Steve’s adopted son. The concept of somebody related to that maniac being on their side was strange to Bucky, but Steve trusted her, and it was going to be enough.

One even more unexpected person present here was Clint Barton. It wasn’t even the guy being around that surprised Bucky, rather than how different his attitude seemed. Not the he’d never tried to tell a stupid joke in a short period of their flight, but the entire time he hadn’t snuck a single distrustful glare in Bucky’s direction, or seemed generally displeased by his presence. In fact, he behaved as if they were old buddies.

If the other matter was less urgent, Bucky would ponder about this change, but now he was simply too worried.

Steve’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder as if he was able to feel his unease. “She’ll be fine,” he reassured. “I talked to her only a few times, but I can tell, she’s not one to easily give up.”

They neared the town cloaked, but closer to the vortex, the strange energy started to interfere with their systems, most starting to go offline one by one. Their flight became bumpy as if they entered a zone of high turbulence. Having enough fallen planes for one day, it made Bucky even more nervous.

The turbulence wasn’t their only problem. The moment the reflective panels of their clocking system started to shut down, revealing the plane even to a naked eye, Bucky noticed they were no longer alone in the sky. 

The  _ Zeus _ started to ascend from the ground, the storm around having absolutely no effect on the ship. 

“I’d say this is a horrible sign,” Sam stated unenthusiastically watching it rising over the hurricane.

“We don’t have time to deal with them now,” Bucky groaned, knowing that every second they wasted here was placing him further and further away from rescuing Kobik.

“You guys should go. I’ll deal with this,” Jet proposed calmly.

“That’s too dangerous,” Sam replied immediately. “You can’t pilot and shoot at the same time, you just gonna get yourself killed.”

“I’m not planning to fight them. I’ll just lead them away from the city while you fly down and catch up with Zemo.”

“That’s a sound plan,” Tony nodded. “I can carry Barnes and Barton. That leaves two Caps as a second team.”

Bucky almost jumped when Clint unexpectedly elbowed him. “Hey, when I said I missed hanging out with you, I didn’t mean literally hanging from Iron Man, but sure.” He laughed.

Sam leaned to Jet, kissing her on the cheek. “Just be careful,” he said before turning to the rest of the team. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

***

The  _ Zeus _ took their bait, so either Karla was less perceptive than Bucky initially thought, or she was in a bad mood and didn’t care, wanting to simply blow something up.

The wind was stronger closer to the ground, and both the flyers had to circle around for a while to find a safe path of descent. It only became worse on the ground. Not that the wind was strong enough to be dangerous, but it made it rather uncomfortable to stay in the open.

Dust was flying in the air, reducing visibility. It was forcing Bucky to squint his eyes and envy members of their group who had their faces protected by glasses or full-face masks.

The town was almost empty, but there were some people on the streets. Several houses away from where they landed, a man was covering up a broken window with a sheet of plastic. A couple was hurrying away from the town’s center, looking a little shaken. A middle aged man was poking his head out of his door, looking at the sky with a sort of disbelieving amusement.

“If the fighting starts, we will have to move it out of city’s premises,” Steve said as they rushed in the direction the vortex was originating from. “Or try taking Helmut down as fast as possible, to avoid civilian casualties.”

“I think this kind of mission debriefing has been already imprinted in our brain by now,” Tony replied. Being faster than most, he went ahead, speaking over the intercom. “Huh, that’s weird,” he added reaching the center.

Only several moments later Bucky was able to see what he was talking about.

The wind stopped suddenly. One moment they were surrounded by the gale, and the next one, they stepped into a clearing where not even a blade of grass moved in the breeze. Bucky could still see the storm raging only ten feet away behind them, but the entire city square was clear of it, as if surrounded by an invisible barrier.

It was a large, open area fully paved with gray stone, surrounded with several taller buildings. Unlike the rest of the town, it was completely empty. There was not a single person in the vicinity, not outside on the street, not even peeking down from their windows. Bucky only hoped it was because they had enough mind to run away.

In the very center of it was a large, layered fountain and the sounds of falling water was the only thing Bucky was able to hear in the complete silence.

Right above it floated a small blue cube, the tip of the vortex that rose hundreds of feet was forming just over its top surface.

Bucky wanted to fall to his knees seeing it, afraid it was over now. Helmut managed to find the shard, reverse Kobik into her cosmic cube form, and he had no idea if he could ever bring her back.

“It’s so strange,” came the painfully familiar voice of Helmut Zemo, the man himself standing next to the fountain, his face aimed upwards at the cube. “I’ve been hunting this shard ever since the war, forgetting it was there, remembering it again. I’m so damn tired of this thing manipulating my mind!” The last part he almost said in a growl, starting to reach for the cube. 

Bucky was the first who acted, or at least he thought he was. He heard other members of his team reacting, was even certain both Tony and Clint replied with something snarky. Yet, he couldn’t concentrate on any of it.

Rage filled him, so strong, everything turned red before his eyes. He knew well, he was at his worst when he acted upon this particular emotion, but he couldn’t control himself, wanting nothing else but to see Helmut suffer for taking Kobik away, for hurting her.

Moving close enough there was nothing in between him and Zemo, he prepared to empty the entire clip of his rifle into him. Something else happened before he could do it, however. Right as Helmut moved closer to the cube, Bucky saw him flinch.

Then he jumped away from the fountain as if it now was filled with lava, his eyes going wider. “What? Why?!” he exclaimed in surprise, falling to his knees.

“Because  _ I _ decided so,” a man appearing out of nowhere answered him, his voice surprisingly soft, calming. 

When Bucky turned his head in the direction it came from, he saw a priest casually walking down the street. He seemed vaguely familiar somehow, as if Bucky had seen him before, even if he couldn’t put a finger on as to where. 

“You! What did you do to me?” Helmut yelled.

Bucky turned his weapon at the newcomer. It didn’t matter what he was dressed in. Appearances were deceiving, moreover on people who could incapacitate others with the power of their will. 

Steve’s hand rose up to stop him. “Father Patrick?” He surprised.

“Ah, yes, I believe I’ve introduced myself once with this name. I still can’t believe how easy it was to fool everyone.” The priest chuckled. “In any case, right now I’m here to just pick up my cosmic cube, and I’ll be on my way. Maybe.”

“Ah, I should’ve figured you’d show up,” Zemo grunted, trying to push against the invisible force that held him in place. “You’re a priest now? Want me to confess my sins?”

Steve was fast, reacting before Bucky’s mind even processed what was said. Shield in front of himself, he leaped towards the priest.

To Bucky’s complete surprise, the guy moved out of the way effortlessly, jumping higher than any normal human was capable of. He landed on the other side of the fountain, grinning a little madly.

There was something really familiar about that smirk, about his manner of speech, and now Bucky was certain he knew him, he recognized him. Taking an aim, he started to shoot, yet every single bullet flew around the guy, chipping rocks off the building behind.

“As much as I would like to stay and try my luck at defeating you, Captain America, I’m afraid it will have to wait for another time.” Red Skull grinned.

Swearing under his breath, Bucky released the used ammunition clips, getting ready to reload and look for weaknesses, chinks in the armor in one of their most dangerous enemies.

Something hit him on the base of his neck. It wasn’t strong enough to break anything, but it pushed him forward, tumbling into the dirty ground.

“Bucky, I’m sorry, I can’t control my body!” He heard Tony’s voice and turned to look back just in time to see him charging the hand cannon that was aimed directly at his face.

He was sure, he had no time to dodge it, and the only thing that saved his life was an arrow. It flew out of Clint’s bow, and while it wasn’t enough to pierce through Tony’s suite of armor, it redirected the blast. 

Bucky almost started to thank Clint, but the next moment saw the archer turning on Sam, looking terrified by his own actions. 

Steve, it seemed, was also struggling with his composure. He hadn’t yet completely succumbed to whatever was affecting everyone. One knee on the ground, he was leaning onto his shield, breathing heavily and looking disoriented.

He didn’t seem in immediate danger, and Bucky turned his attention to Skull, who now was casually walking towards the cosmic cube. 

Bucky was fairly certain Skull had never had mind controlling powers before, but it was obvious, he was responsible for this. It was a nice plan, too, to force everyone to fight each other, while he could obtain what he’d come here for.

Except he didn’t succeed, not exactly. Somehow, while having absolutely no powers, or superhuman abilities, Bucky was the only one in the field not affected by Skull’s mind control. Looking up, at the cube the floated above the fountain, he thought he had an idea why, felt protected by the familiar energy radiating from it.

“Kobik,” he whispered, all of the sudden feeling an urge to reach out, touch it. Without thinking, Bucky got to his feet and ran. 

It took Skull too long to notice him. By the time he did, Bucky had already been closer to the cube. Jumping forward, he grabbed the edge of the second layer of the fountain, pulling himself up the wet granite. He thought he felt someone grabbing him by the foot, trying to pull him down, but he had enough time to reach out, his fingers landing onto the glowing, glassy surface.

And then everything around dissipated into nothing.

He was in darkness again, same lack of gravity and direction surrounding him. Last time he’d been here, he could see Kobik almost immediately, could hear her voice. This time, he found himself completely alone.

There was a light coming from somewhere in the distance, but Bucky wasn’t sure how he could reach it. The moment he thought about it, he felt his body beginning to descend, until his feet touched the ground which he couldn’t see.

Walking here felt like trudging through a knee-high body of water that was cold and rippling in the wake of his movements. It made Bucky think he was still standing in the fountain in the world outside this illusion.

As he finally reached the light, he saw Kobik, sitting on an elevated area. She was curled into herself, hugging her knees. From almost every direction, she was encircled with a multitude of projections of hazed memories that felt very familiar.

“Are they mine?” Bucky surprised looking around.

“I saw them all,” Kobik replied. “When Mister America used my powers to return your memories. I didn't need or want to understand then. I don’t think I understand now, even if I want to.”

There was him, watching the newsreels about Captain America for the first time, awestruck and having no idea he was going to end up working with the man. On the next screen he saw himself playing cards with Toro, laughing at a crude joke he came up with. A lot of images were of him and Steve fighting on the front line, of them patching each other up after a battle. These memories were turning into the ones from his time as the Winter Soldier, most of which he didn’t want to recollect.

“People around you also fought because of you,” Kobik pointed out. “Steve and Lukin guy did.”

Bucky moved closer to the girl, sitting down onto the invisible ground beside her. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he agreed.

Every image from Bucky’s past shifted, turning into ones of Red Skull, of him cradling the lifeless cube, smiling coldly at something Bucky didn’t even dare to guess.

“You only had yourself to decide what to do in the end. How did you know what was good and what was bad?”

Bucky hummed, pondering about her question. He was not prepared for this, had no answers for her. And he wished to explain this better, in a way that also applied to her situation. “Experience. You gave my memories back to me. And it was then I understood Lukin just wanted to have me because of my abilities. Steve didn’t care about it, he only cared about me.”

She felt silent, her expression thoughtful. “And you? Do you want my powers?”

“No,” Bucky replied immediately, not needing to think about it.

Kobik nodded. “I think I understand,” she said and started to get up to her feet. “Let’s go, Bucky. I want to go home.”

The darkness around them began to recede, and the next moment Bucky found himself falling backward into the fontain, all of his clothes that almost had time to dry by now soaked wet again.

He managed to climb out of the water just in time to see a bright pillar of energy shooting upwards, piercing the sky. Light swallowed everything, every color, every sound, forcing Bucky to shut his eyes, turn his head away. Every hair on his skin stood on its end, wind strong enough it almost overthrew him hit him in the chest.

Then it all disappeared completely, so fast, Bucky would've thought he imagined it happen, if not for the giant round clearing in the sky that formed over the entire town.

As he looked around, Bucky saw the Avengers coming back to their senses, seemingly still a little disoriented, but no longer under Skull’s control. Over the fountain itself, Kobik still floated in midair, slowly moving towards the ground, landing between Skull and Bucky.

“What have you done?!” Skull yelled, sounding maddened for some reason.

Kobik hopped towards him, smiling widely and looking happy. “I got rid of my powers, Mr. Skull! You don’t have to fight each-other over me anymore!” She all but laughed.

Whether or not Skull’s face was real or a mask at the moment, Bucky wasn’t sure, yet he clearly could read its expressions. Skull looked at the girl in surprise and disbelief, and for a split second everything around stilled. “What. Have. You. Done?” he repeated slower, shadow falling onto his face. Then he completely exploded in rage. “You useless, little piece of garbage!” He shoved her away hard enough she tumbled backwards, falling on her back.

Anger matching the one of Skull’s ignited in Bucky as he saw it. Without having any plan of action, he lurched forward, jumped between the two. It seemed, Skull was distracted enough, because when Bucky took a swing, the hit actually landed on the intended aim, his fist colliding with Skull’s jaw.

Skull sneered, stepping away, and what would you know, the thing that substituted for his face was real enough, he had to wipe blood off his lip.

He looked down at the red smear on his glove, as if he couldn’t believe he was hurt. When he lifted his head up again, the flame in his eyes was burning cold. This wasn’t anger anymore, at least not only. This was a look of a man who didn’t want to play games anymore, who didn’t plan to make lives around him miserable. Instead, this was an intend to kill, painfully, but fast and efficient.

And all of it was aimed not at Captain America, his one and only nemesis. Not at the Avengers who muddled with his plans enough to warrant hatred. It was Bucky he looked upon, and the idea of it was chilling. 

Then, he glanced around.

While Bucky couldn’t see everybody else, he could hear the hum of Stark’s propulsors, the string of Clint’s bow straining.

“It’s over, Skull,” Steve’s voice came from somewhere beside him. “Surrender.”

“To hell with this.” Skull groaned taking another step backwards.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Bucky stared at the empty spot for a little longer, his heart racing from emotions. 

“Hey, had he always been able to disappear like that?” Bucky heard Sam asking somewhere on the background, heard Clint answering him with a confused noise that almost sounded like ‘I don’t know.’

“Could’ve been a teleportation device of some sort, but keep your eyes out,” Steve joined into their discussion.

Bucky ignored all of them. Finally forcing himself to turn away, he switched his attention to Kobik, moving to crouch before her. “Are you alright?” he asked as gently as he could, despite his anger having almost no time to subside.

The girl still seemed shocked, her eyes full of tears. She reached out to him almost immediately, scrambling into his embrace. “I thought... I thought he would be happy. Why would he try hurting me?”

Bucky opened his mouth to answer, because telling her Skull was evil seemed like an obvious things. But then, she’d spent so much time with him, cared about him, despite everything he was. She believed in him, trusted him, and he betrayed her. And it was even a worse thing to do to a child. “I don’t know,” he replied instead. “I’m sorry.”

Steve walked to them and kneeled beside Bucky. His arm rose up, and there was a short moment of hesitation, before it landed onto Bucky’s back, his touch feeling reassuring.

“I.. I forgot.” Kobik moved to look at him, and there was fear in her eyes now. “I said I will fix what I did. But I can’t now.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and turned to Steve. Their eyes met, his friend looking at him as if silently asking something most important. Somehow Bucky knew what it was, and nodded in reply.

“It’s ok,” Steve said smiling a little tired. “I don’t think it’s needed anymore.”

***

Sharon’s apartment in this version of reality looked... interesting. Right from the hallway leading into the living room, Bucky was greeted with a large display case full of figurines of real life superheroes, which collected almost the entire roster of any incarnation of Avengers. Most of the shelves around the place were packed full of comics and science fiction novels. One of the walls in the living room was almost entirely covered with a large scroll poster of a cute girl from some Japanese cartoon.

“You should probably stay overnight,” Sharon proposed looking over the three of them, Kobik sleeping soundly in Bucky’s arms. “It’s late, and there’s no reason to wake Ian up.”

“You sure it would be a good idea?” Steve asked.

“Yes, I’ll just ask Cameron to dig out some spare clothes for you to change. Maybe a couple of sandwiches,” she replied gesturing towards one of the doors leading into a spare bedroom. “And you can tell me what happened in Eisendorf tomorrow morning.”

Bucky guessed it was going to be a long story. After the dust settled, they discovered Zemo was gone, too. It was difficult to tell if the baron escaped during the commotion, or if Skull was the one who took him.

They returned to New York barely half an hour ago with the rest of the Avengers. Tony tried to invite them to stay at the mansion, but Steve insisted on stopping by at Sharon’s place to pick up Ian before they could start figuring out what to do next.

They were tired, slightly beaten, and Bucky still had some parts of his clothes wet. He really wished Steve would take up the offer, so he could find a warm, quiet corner and pass out until morning.

The door led into a kid’s room, filled to the brim with various toys and games. The lights were off, but Bucky instantly spotted Ian in the very middle of it, in what looked to be a fort built out blankets and pillows. The boy was soundly asleep, next to a small girl with curly, golden hair that looked to be younger than Kobik.

“They played and fell asleep like that.” Sharon smiled. “I decided to just let them be. There’s room for one more, I think.”

Bucky didn’t even start to wait for Steve’s decision. He carried Kobik into the room, placing her carefully onto the pile of blankets, covering her with one. She stirred, made a soft, quiet sound and turned to her side, snuggling into the closest pillow.

“I guess, that’s our answer,” Steve chuckled quietly.

Sharon showed them into a different bedroom. It was obviously a part of the apartment that wasn’t used often, half of it filled with various boxes, turned into an extra storage space. The rest of it had a very basic set of commodities: a single queen bed, an empty nightstand and a chair.

Moments later, there was a knock on their door. As Steve opened it, the same man Bucky had seen on the photos appeared on the doorstep, carrying a bundle of folded clothes. “Hey guys.” He nodded. “Some of it might be a little small. But there’s a shirt that I ordered online and they accidentally sent two sizes bigger, so it should be fine,” he said giving the clothes to Steve.

He made a step backwards and scratched the back of his head. “It’s, uh, weird. Sharon had told me about your timeline altering. I guess you don’t remember me? I’m Cameron,” he said offering his hand. “My grandfather served in the Howling Commandos.”

“No, I actually do,” Steve replied still taking the offered hand. “We’ve talked once at the Triskelion docks.”

“Ah, that was quite some time ago,” Cameron smiled. “And uh... I guess we’ll catch up tomorrow? You two are probably tired.”

As Cameron left, Steve closed the door after him and turned around, dropping the clothes onto the bed. There was something sad about his expression, which Bucky could see wasn’t exhaustion.

“You alright?” he asked, digging through the clean clothes and retreating with a pair of sweatpants. He knew for a fact that his friend wasn’t. There was so much that happened in the last several days, Bucky’s own mind refused to even try wrapping around it.

Bucky’s clothes were too dirty for the chair, so he dropped them into the corner, hoping they weren’t damp enough to ruin the wooden floor. He hesitated for a split second about his briefs, but in the end they ended up in the pile too.

“Just not sure what to do now,” Steve confessed following his example, pulling the top of his uniform over his head. “Plus, it’s a little weird ending up in an unfamiliar apartment, knowing the woman you used to be with is somewhere nearby, sharing a bed with another man.”

“Well, technically, you’re going to share a bed with another man too, so...” Bucky chuckled nodding at the one that was in the room. Then he swore in his mind, realizing how inappropriate the joke sounded, afraid he just made things worse again. “You have your son back now. Could focus on that.”

Steve finished changing into a new shirt, which was too big even for him, and moved to a window on the opposite from the bed wall, looking out at the city. “I keep thinking about it. When we were trapped in the alternative dimension, we were rescued by Phrox, a peaceful race that was hunted down by Zola, experimented on. Ian had become their liberator, a symbol for them not to give up the fight. But now, without him there...” he shook his head. “The entire race might've been doomed on extinction. And the worse part,” he continued. “I only feel happiness of being reunited with him.”

Bucky bit his lip and and followed his friend, moving to stand beside him. “You don’t know that,” he said placing his hand onto Steve’s shoulder. “Besides, that’s the thing about tyrans. No matter how much power they have, or how scary they look, someone will always get up, someone will become a symbol. Ian might not have been the one, but it doesn’t mean they lost. You taught me that.”

“So you think it’s all alright?” Steve hummed thoughtfully. Then, he suddenly shifted closer and embraced Bucky. “You think this is what we should do?” He asked, holding him tight against himself, his lips brushing against Bucky’s forehead and Bucky could’ve sworn his voice sounded as if he was about to cry.

Bucky knew that he shouldn't push, he wouldn’t have done it if he was a better person. But he was selfish and egoistic, and so he tugged Steve even closer. “I love you,” he said instead of an answer.

Steve brought his hands to Bucky’s face, lifting it up and kissing him. It wasn’t deep, but neither it was chaste, his lips moving surely, his stubble scratching Bucky’s chin. And,  _ oh _ , unlike Steve from the past, this version of him knew how to kiss, making Bucky all but melt into his embrace.

It didn’t last long, yet as they pulled apart, Bucky noted his heart was pounding as if he ran a mile, his body buzzing pleasantly with budding arousal. They stood there for a little while without saying a thing, just holding each other. Both were tired and filthy, and smelt of old sweat and sea water, but Steve presses his lips to Bucky’s forehead, and it was great. Better than great, even.

“You know, I would’ve decided to stay here in the end anyway,” Steve said finally, not needing to raise his voice higher than a whisper.

“I figured.”

“And not only because of Sharon and Ian. Don’t get me wrong, I care about her. And I’m not sure I’m completely ready to let go of my feelings for her, not so soon. But I want this.” He gestured at the lack of space between them. “I love you, too.”

His confession came out sounding so easy, as if it it wasn’t the first time here done it, as if they spoke these words to each-other every day.

“So,” Bucky chuckled quietly, feeling so happy he almost forgot about his fatigue. “Want to finally go to bed?” he asked intentionally leaving the implication open-ended.

The only answer he received was a feeling of Steve smiling against his skin.

**Epilogue**

_ Three months later. _

“You should really propose to him. You know, he’s not gonna do it himself, and—” Natasha’s words were interrupted by a battery of shots coming from the left side of them.

She jumped out of their cover, shooting down two terrorists dressed in green Hydra uniform. Then threw a grenade  there for a good measure. When the dust settled down, she gestured Bucky to follow further into the building they were set to clear.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what two people should do after only a handful of months together,” Bucky replied scoffing.

He and Natasha had never gotten back together after he got his memories back, but they were very close even in this version of reality. She was one of very few people Bucky trusted not only with his life, but with his feelings. That was why he also decided to tell her the entire truth of what happened. It felt like the right thing to do.

It didn’t come as a surprise that she was supportive, but her teasing was something Bucky also predicted.

Two more guys came at them. Bucky punched one with his metal hand hard enough he passed out from only one blow. The other one he kicked in the stomach with his knee, before Natasha hit him with the butt of her gun on the head.

“Hey, I’m only half-joking,” she said. “At least you’ll have an excuse to have a vacation.”

With that, Bucky couldn’t argue. Most couples went through a relevantly long period of time dating before getting kids. They managed to get two of them  _ before  _ getting together.

“Do we need an excuse to have a vacation?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Captain America is home on a babysitting duty, while you’re cleaning out Hydra with me,” she pointed out. “I’m grateful for the mental image of that, of course, but if you don’t have time to go on missions together, I can only imagine what other parts of your private life suffer.”

The other parts of their private life, as Natasha put it, didn’t suffer. Steve had a really big apartment in the abandoned house in Brooklyn, with great sound isolation.

“Oh, that good, huh?” He heard her chuckle, most likely seeing the expression on his face.

She wasn’t the only one who saw it, as a lone Hydra grunt that appeared out of nowhere came nose to nose with Bucky. Apparently, Winter Soldier smiling was an image more terrifying than him scowling, because the next moment the grunt dropped his weapon and held his hands up. “I’m surrendering, please don’t kill me!” he pleaded.

“Get out,” Bucky rolled his eyes. Letting him go like that was not the best idea, but he was in a good mood. Plus, there was a small brigade of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the direction he sent the guy to, so Bucky wasn’t particularly worried. “And did you just started the entire conversation just to get me talking about my sex life?” He turned his attention back to Natasha.

“Who knows,” she shrugged.

“You’ll probably use it against me somehow.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Bucky laughed again, releasing the clip of his rifle and reloading. Their intelligence informed there was a big concentration of machinery somewhere inside the building. Knowing Hydra, it weren’t lawn mowers and leaf blowers, and so he prepared for a big fight.

“Maybe we’ll talk about it later,” he proposed looking ahead. “If you help us planning that vacation.”


End file.
